Echo in the Artisan

by E.ON

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The Adding Machine presents "Echo in the Artisan" E.on's first solo project.


released November 11, 2013

Track 1 prod. by Subsist
Track 2 co-prod. by Subsist & E.on
Track 3 prod. by Defckon
Track 4 prod. by Eoin
Track 5 prod. by Nate Kiz
Track 6 co-prod. by Defckon & E.on
Track 7 prod. by Jayyeah

Mixed and Mastered by Subsist
Recorded at The Adding Machine top secret headquarters 1000 miles below the surface
Artwork by E.on

Nate Kiz:



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The Adding Machine Ottawa, Ontario

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Track Name: White Noise
This be the sound of the messenger gettin caught in the cross fire
Just delivering a new resume with attached cover letter
Running for his life to fill the spot of another gun for hire
Now he lies like any other martyr... one more added to the slaughter
This be the sound of the ambulance siren drowned out
In the crowd of applause for the monster who-
Shot him, not a worthy trophy kill, just needed to stop the virus
Spreading but his message won't be lost like ghosts in the static
And hope that a tragic
Crime scene death would never overshadow or hold a candle
To the message he left
This be the sound of the nomad lookin' homely
"Only a mother could love me" now without a road map
One glance - rear view mirror broke - no going back
but a fork in the path could lead to a morgue or a mortgage
Paid off, no abort button so he rides out the plane crash
And make a mother proud of the man she raised
Not to give up but to give back
This be the sound of a stillborn heartbeat
on repeat, pass out in your bed sheets, but you can't sleep
Every breath that you breathe is met with a plea - haunting your dreams
That feeling you get when you can't keep a promise
All you hear is that ring in your ear

The war is won
Track Name: Down the Rabbit Hole
Our journey begins its where the page stops
The point where you. pick up a paint brush
Promise me you'll escape from these archetypes made for us
They found our molds down to a formula watch the metamorphosis
Transform from nothingness
the void space to forge and bend shapes, find a voice from
the static that follows it
Every fiber and cell, every particle melts into the meaning
but It's not a product I push to sell
I push myself, making sense of the mud,
sculpting from the clay where the thoughts emerge from
Spinning in the palm of the potters hand
The point where the problems end
but the echo I hear inside of my head... is forming at the surface again
Legs carry our faith, eyes carry what's taught
If these visions are left to rot, I'll force feed you this food for thought
and watch them feast like pigs to the trough

Bring me their eyes let's turn them inside out
Give me their eyes let's turn them inside out

This voice sounded better inside of my head
and now I'm holding a torch to the end of a fuse instead
but I refuse to make a point without the proof
Right now, if I tried to prove a point I'd.. lose sight of the finish line
Running in circles, the serpent chasing his tail
Its all but a dream, here's a penny for the wishing well
So instead...

I guess I...I got this crazy plan
I’m following the echo in the artisan
Transcend balancing the contrast
‘til then, I can’t, find my way around the verse if I’m lacking intent
I get tunnel vision when I’m falling down the rabbit hole
Quick to follow a flame that's dying, it's so beautiful
It's darker the deeper I go
I'm in a tail-spin - trying to capture a glimpse of that precision glow

Can't you see the seasons are changing
Give me their eyes let's turn them inside out
Track Name: Short Circuit
I drew the sketches out now I'm draftin the prototype
makin the measurements where I rap first and cut twice
cut the metaphoric cake when its easy as pie and icing on top is the vision from my third eye
Burnin out candles and usin the wax for the tracks we made
turnin that high horse into gluesticks the next day
Into the fox hole where we jot notes,
askin all the cutthroats what we got to do get some extra plays
I ain't askin anybody where the limit is
just tryn'a jump on song where the beat comes knockin like jehovah witnesses
Now picture this that pretty perfect, usurpin type of diction
what I'm spittin is the rapture to these middle school atheist
Embarrass any kid who think he scarier than this
writin verses with the fire in my palm till he burnt to a crisp
that dunce cap student tryin to make it to the dean's list
always come with the passion, bleed on the pad, period

Step the fires up, burn the market down
Set the ladder up, tear the house down
Pick the crown up, turn the offer down
Times up, give it out short circuit kill it now
Keep your head up, keep the food down
Turn the mic up, but keep your voice... down

Drop the needle, let the record spin been servin kids
now the case is close like what I put the glasses in
4-eyes bout to show these dorks who they're messin with
but let me grab my D10 and roll for some stat bonuses
I'm a practicing witchdoctor with an out of date certificate
A wordsmith built for endurance drinkin Guinness's
Reading palms with my wrong hand writin my poems in an opium den
hopin' I dont have to blow some dope to get flowin again
... now its comin more naturally,
so from now on, expect a couple more rap casualties
Don't rap casually, come at me with crowbars, mask with the ski
really you're as soft as that girl from Avonlea
straight talk spit arrows out the longbows,
who knew E.ON long ago was just a snotty nosed?
bangin pots and pans for those crude types of audios
that make your flows stop like a blood clot, adios
Track Name: Lifeblood
Play the hand you were dealt, but I'm gambit with card tricks
Regardless you'd have to go and quarantine these bars quick
..You know I'm still provokin thought without a doctrine
And all these other cats act about as hard as moccasins
Jog in the footsteps I'm makin
cus I'm gettin' my socks wet -
walkin across the surface of all these verses - they in-depth
come and swim in the deep end, can you see what I mean yet?
Hot head, from the edge of space jumpin' with his helmet off
formulate the soundscape, let's go n' turn the volume up
Put the message in the bottle at the bottom of the molotov
and promise we'll build from the dust we started from
... Enterin the mind games, wrestling with the rhetoric
and talkin the sickness, create with the gift I was given
The full package, go n' open up your eyelids and take a peak
Put the needle to my vein, and let the record play through my bloodstream
The IV could pro'lly use a couple more CC's, I'm in tight with the bee knees
Heaven has to wait, cus we're makin our devils here today
I came to the mic bringin' the vices, my dying wish
makin these words essential to life like the vitamins
Can you swallow the truth?
Finger paintin' with the blood on my hands
Now they askin' for a truce?
... But they'll never get it, I'm givin a better picture
Give me something that we can all remember
I'm trying to live pass the passage of...
Time where the rhythm is something that we can always leave behind
Speak from the fire that resides in us
Get cats out they seat like a bump at the back of the bus
Quick havin' 'em baggin the bread up like the back-to-school lunch
Droppin' knowledge on these motherfucks
Jarred lightening, straight from the bottom of lungs
mediate on every breath that I run on
and always balancing life on the tip of my tongue
when the menace invented a means of takin' his medicine
with any mention of the venom inside his mental capacities
No cats touchin' me, wet paint rhyme schemes
Weavin' together the final pieces of my tapestry
The architect puttin his theories to work through a tape deck

6 million ways to die, why choose one?
I'm aimin at takin' 'em - all of 'em - on at once
Track Name: Erlenmeyer Flash Bang
It goes
Survival of the fittest so I'm fine riggin the system
Left leavin' the finger prints, evidence for jurys decision
Let's make it even easier to figure whose really killin' 'em
Guilt ridden when riding rhythms the pilgrim searching for wisdom
Pick the scab, take a closer look at the open incision
Wounds don't scar his skin, they provide him with what he was missin'
Down a couple pick me ups and I'm back in rotation'
Old-habits die hard when brittle bones get to breakin'
The ghost of Eden hits like the intravenous
Record needle dealing damage like stoners itching to fiend off that zip-loc
Always got enough time on my hands to clean your whole clock
Fools in hot pursuit of another cold case, work stashed up in the ice box
Nice try but your rhymes suck, snatchin' nickels out your pockets every time I heard that one
cus the kids playin' for keeps
Place your bets on loaded pistols when spinning roulettes
Once the triggers start winning then guess who's left

Guess who's left, guess who's left
Once the triggers start winning then guess who's next
Guess who's left, guess who's left

Finna set the record straight over some sampled loops
and soon havin' em catchin' the wave in a pair of cement shoes
A breath of fresh air so hes playing wrong and not followin suit
Call him a novice, he might but spit nice in the booth
Ready able and lord willing, clips are loaded for sure winning
Packin' punches till pockets overflow with those gold fillings
Goin' heavy with the street talk keep flows dirty like the back wash
Nate Kiz beat be the backdrop
Stick to the scripts or get stuck with the sticks kid
Came through steppin' on necks none of your business
Been..meaning to leave a couple of lips filled with stitches
Hell caught a cold if you think you spit with that illness

Adding some of those finishing touches: a permanent stay down
Barrels to the back of your brain cells mix with the muzzle flash make your face melt

Once the triggers start winning then guess who's left
Guess who's left Guess who's left
Once the triggers start winning then guess who's next
Guess who's left Guess who's left
Who's got the nerve to throw dirt on my name
Learning the science behind an Erlenmeyer flash bang
Track Name: Built to Ruin
Six feet deep, and its gettin' harder breathe
Another sixteen deep and its gettin' harder and harder to breathe
Give it all you got (it's not enough)

Call it what you want, but we're all speakin' the same tongue
I'm just the artist writin to rhythm of napalm
Smoke fillin' the room up hope to consume a quick buzz
To capture a colourful past with a box of new crayons
If sleep could bring me a dream I'd be happy to save one
Count sheep to infinity but the sandman never comes
Figured the.. wolves found themselves something to eat
Now they're wearing the skin of their feast
I'm in open water, swimmin with chum
Told the truth but not the answer you're looking for
The deeper meaning buried six feet after the trap door
Lookin' to satisfy that itch in my spinal cord
But these words only reciprocate with a double edged sword
More damage done the longer sharpened on the writer's block
Always losing battles when decided by a coin toss
Bright ideas gone straight down the black hole
No longer any light at the end of this carpel tunnel

Six feet deep, and its gettin' harder breathe
Another sixteen feet deep and its gettin' harder and harder
Give it all you got (it's not enough)

Only a cut above the bottom of the barrel
Practise makes less crap, on our grizzly soundin' so feral
Distracted by every crater in the path, examined through the hubble
Splittin hairs with a sledgehammer, I'm not tryin' to be subtle
Take life by the throat when breathing comes with a struggle
Clear the air out, filter it down to a notch in the belt buckle
The mortar and pastels, grindin' to make the craft sell
Greeted by helping hand here to push you down the stairwell
All thumbs so the scales never goin' his way
The dog days are over now they're comin for his last leg
One step closer to never makin' it home safe
Hard to speak no evil when it's all you got left to say
Giving the cold shoulder to my blessing in disguise
Shape shift out the current plot so the curse couldn't change sides
Never lookin' back after recovery from the crash
One day soon to be the sharpest needle out the hay stack

Six feet deep, and its gettin' harder
Another sixteen feet deep and its gettin' and harder to breathe
Give it all you got (it's not enough)
Track Name: Diamonds in the Rough Draft
I been steady usin the used needle to mutilate skin tissue
Pumpin that juice in bringin life back to those limbs that remain useless
Like pickin a dead horse as your one-trick pony parade that shit around stupid
"Look it's not what you think" its a fly-by-night solution

What an end to an execution

And once that guillotine snaps your neck - you are finally free
Sent to a place where the marquee reads "LIVE FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST"
Where the light don't live and the damned don't leave
Not Hell on Earth but the space between, try as you might bribe that ferry man
he won't take your two cents off your hand and carry you along that river's edge
Started making hobbies out of failed attempts
When I write it all out it still sounds better in my head
Haunted by the devils that are bred in detail, never ending struggle for the guardian angels
A chess game where the winner takes over the other shoulders prime real estate
I could really use some help here

I got room for some new ideas underneath my bed, but...
A box spring feeling a lot like barbwire is the place where I rest my head
Alone in a dark spot where thoughts race and I can't keep pace
Trying to sever my stomach and hopin I can open up and let the monster escape
when the razor blade cuts it goes both ways
From the vein to the page from the cage to the maze
Make another mess of my wrist till the ink runs dry, realize
we are not okay

Another diamond in the rough draft, can you see the potential I might have?
As the medics rush in and keep that tourniquet tight cus the kid will lose blood fast
Putting pressure on the wound and wondering how long will that pulse last?
Miracles have happened for less, but I'm willing to bet this time there isn't much time left
I'm willing to bet this time there isn't much time left
I'm not afraid to die cus I'm scared to death
I'm not afraid to die cus I'm scared to death