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The Dioscuri

by Louis Mackey & Dr. Quandary

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1.
A thousand year old gift of fume’s wit aroused the mind. Picture us circling the moonlit mountainside Hallucinogenic gas rise from the earth, seducing the many masses who ask for guidance and search. if violence is splurged then the mindless are burned. Give pride to the herd that’s designing our work; the late concessions do not abate progression in these ancient ethics, we do not make exceptions. More than empty speech, this a Rembrandt crafted; burst to full speed into a tempest, masthead. The remnants ashes, the remnants ashes— is all that is left from our ascent to blackness. Wisdom to never stop when admonished; bribed and blackmailed, all the clever gods to pay homage— at the edges of oblivion when we got the ocean hear the prophecy spoken, nod and keep going.
2.
The Dioscuri (free) 03:06
I'm testing the curve of your textual girth Peace to Quan, I'm out for a few to rest in the earth Leave it to you, when I'm gone, keep blessing the herd And when we trade back, I'll see that the vestiges burn — see the vestiges burn None will survive, master of the universe You're just along for the ride — I take the onus as mine Lou and Quan in their prime; some say that we're gifted But we call it divine.. You didn't know who it was, you should have figured it's He: I'm Poseidon, shaking Titans off their ship in the sea, not used to defeat — of seeds of Jupiter's breed; won't stop until every being swings in tune with the beat, back and forth I'm fucking muting you dweebs, stomping the earth hard always moving my feet I inhabit the skies, call me Catullus Gaius — sometimes I scare myself because the black of my eyes carries with it the wrath of a Tantalus tide; so priapic and fly, we cause Tragic demise — martyr you to Father Zeus, barbecued Burn-scored, turn your particles to auburn hues Wear crowns of oak adorned on our heads; so fuck a battle — ghosts from the underworld that are swarming your set — I got Fortune upset Because I tore her and left and never pulled out when I came, and she aborted the pest.
3.
Latium 03:06
I work in circles, crowned, battered from war —and wash up face down on the Latium shore; to stake my claim on this earth, rattle the core as the auguries fly out and magically sore; into an infinite empyrean and scatter their force as the priestesses proceed to stab at the corpse— where bliss is intertwined with torturous visions, in an orb I have envisioned what Lady Fortune has scripted. Forging the diction, drunk with the bards: the Sons of Mars stay shunning the odds. In the lap of an immense, professed philosophy to make space fabric bend, so says the prophecy; the late, great scatters men, a rogue rap anomaly; show up to your set and protest the mockery. We come from miles away to marvel at the Palace Gates; cause I cannot describe the marble palisades. Perplexing as to evil men's callous ways, and for two plus millennium our towers stay. In this lucrative game I'm like Jupiter's brain; our empires fall but the ruins remain. Wander through the groves where no roads meet; cause I'm sauntering the soul's depth oh so deep. Wear glory as robe, always loathed defeat; because of Athena's cold shoulder that froze whole seas. break Manage this entropy—each stanza's potentially —an amelioration if I channel the centuries; handle it mentally, from the will it's assigned. Compose trills of a kind that send chills up your spine. A distillation of each phrase in a written statement; speech spitting, deep digging, ripping through the pavement listen with amazement, from the chasm we climb; we let the disaster unwind then laugh at your lines. I imagine the mind outside the fabric of time, as the dagger that grinds on the back of your spine.
4.
Listen — This vagrant's on a mission When the written is displayed, the Doctor makes the incision Not afraid of the friction because I'm laden with wisdom And I still can't jailbreak this cave of addiction Bathe in a prism, move through the cage of a prison Wage an affliction — elevate stages of existence I believe in what I see, though perception is relative Intercepted intelligence from terrestrial relatives See with true clarity, then I doubt that I've ever been; They told me to read up on Ralph Waldo Emerson Like in tiny places the truth will hide The negation of you and I — imitation suicide I see the chasm and jump, miss the ladder and rung Struggle with hedonism and living classically just Listen to the art, see what the havoc becomes Because if you refuse to eat it, Then I'm smashing your gums
5.
I get hit in the face with a minute of grace; and thus inspires me to leap into infinite space. We the fearless, proceed to nearness: outcasts, Pythagoreans, indeed, the weird kids. I get hit in the face with a minute of grace, and thus inspires me to leap into infinite space. Brand just societies with liquid disdain; a man clutching apriori, omnipotent aims. I ask what is in us that seeks the truth? Is it the speaking booze or do I need recouped? ...I'm the floor blesser who rocks defiance, the court jester in the yard is dropping science. And the king's laughing at this; but it will not be funny the assassins are slashing his writs, after he sips from the chalice I grab, and take his little spot in the palace he had. I wrote this song to slay the deadly singular; and along the way you may find everything you love; and everything you hate but I'm too fly to censor. Then I remember why I was sent here. chorus 2x I get depressed when I look at the human population, but I shouldn't; it's a very useful oxidation. In suits the crops they're making the props of Satan, and in language we don't touch it, the talks are basic. I could never live a moment again, where I'm holding a pen, and the updraft of coldness descends; to the tone of the end and my opus is sent; and all the mortal's vulnerable bones would've bent. This is for the days of the drought, stuck in a room; going crazy with doubt and I'm fucking consumed; in the ages renowned that had existed before, but; on the page I get down beyond the basics of sound. Lacing the limitless score; with all the anger and love I used to fit in the void. God bless the mass burials to all the kids I've destroyed.
6.
Phantasm 03:52
(chorus 2x) When the Black Figure laughs, it curdles my veins, serpentine flames surround me in a circular way. Avert from it's gaze and with my nerves in a craze, I know of no calm or peace in this purposeless maze. Thought forming physical, feel the nodes. I know these words soon echo through fields and grooves; and I crawl to the next tier, evolve, impressed peers. Now whose to say that my coup will fall on deaf ears? Breath veers caught in cyclonic inhalation; in phonic fits of making the prophet scripts to statements; of well woven intricate stanzas, excises your tongue: the maliciousness cancer its profitable to see that every syllable I breath is more and more making you pitiful and weak Obsessed with the message; So much so I’m leaping into either a rough death or heaven. Ingested caps of mescaline, strapped with c4. Spiraling downward to crash from free fall on cats that seem torn, I bask in these songs. Rap just needs more acts of éclat. (chorus 2x) Refuse to recluse, doubt, or sprout tears; So let me make this from my mouth to God’s ears. Spit to calm cats, kids who palm flasks; deep as the abyss and kick songs beyond that. Call me Oppenheimer; cause I was born for this project; equated Aristotle to informal logic. Rest assured that your pretenses are safe. The only sense I can make of this venture at stake is that you think the lights out but I'm the flickering flame; and I never bow my head in contrition or shame Optimist, cause I'm a prophet that’s unstoppable. Perceive in 360, ocular’s phenomenal. Indomitable, your just not as astrological; as this task at hand is a blast from my abdominal Trapping the possible in casks of amontillado; in dealing with the game I smash half a bottle (chorus 2x) I know we've blown the traditions; but you can't see it now, cause I've sewn intuition. Fade away to Greece or Rome as mythus. You lack skill due your own inhibition As we proceed, remaining aloof; I need one more life to prove what I’m saying is true. And how did I get here to ominous wrong hell? I hear the streets my name synonymous to Cromwell. A rapping villain who hold the scaffold dear like Maximilian Robespierre known for fear. Pacing in my palace, thoughts fucking insane— —trace it back to the roots this wasn’t the aim at the edge, I wish for Peace with the father the shadows creep as I squeeze the revolver And now I can't sleep at night, I'm rustling with the ghost of slaughtered to keep me company. Every night, I can't sleep, I'm rustling with the ghosts of the slaughtered to keep me company.
7.
I hit the moment of clarity, sobered quick and gave remorse; in the droves of sincerity over this pale corpse. It's what I felt, now he's been dealt to the Holy One; I melt to hell as he ate my soul at once. Mutually competitive all night— it went from your regular bar fight descending into hard plight. I dumped the body in the back of my ride and nobody saw me as indifference cast me aside; blasphemy chides, so I mastered surprise; And never let the guilt press it's will and attach it's demise; to my ravenous guise, this is not the path of wise; of those in the bloodbath trapped by the skies. Find nothing universal, even gravity lies and after he died, I saw no soul pass from his eyes; did he love? doubt himself? I have to rewind. How did these shades of gray ever blacken my mind a savage for swine, worse when I'm lapping some wine. Searching for the serenity I could never actually find.
8.
Ulysses 02:40
In my hour of need allow power and speed to guide my hand through the ballad as I flower the seed. This pain and plight kind 'have strained the life; I move back slow like, the brave claim the fight. But as history goes, I'll wear victory's robe; and let time tell the story through epistles he wrote: Jove. Who am I to tell of his wondrous blessing; my skin rips and boils from the sun that has set in. One rumble avails me of his thunderous lesson; there is death in my eyes to those who come with aggression. Each day I'm away is like a whip hit and rips slow; strokes to the clit of the Nymph of Calypso. Many omens, many nights, I fear the gods have cast. Pioneer a giant spear out of your olive branch. 2x In my hour of need allow power and speed to guide my hand through the ballad as I flower the seed. I'm just etching how I see it; possessed by power's demons. Wrecked the Colosseum, collect the palladium. Hear the rustle in the street, "the legend's fallen, bleeding"; clever brow, deceiving, epic valor, teeming. Favored by Athens, this avenger emerged; who will stalk his endeavors to the ends of the Earth. Way past the sirens and the vast horizons; when history is written, I'll be cast with giants. Surrounded by scribes, imbibe illusions and myths. Write to the tune of the mist and a lunar eclipse. The most soulless of motes, alone with his ghost; we ride in perfect stride on the Ionian coast. Will I ever reach Ithaca? And tremble at the Temple? Descending rings, everything's deadly that I stencil. Thousand ton thoughts way heavy on my mental; so I write this poem, prayer medley on my lintel. chorus 2x
9.
intermittent breathes, get a sense of the season digging to depths that cause suspension of reason but we really believe, as to an awful advantage all structures will fall, whether marble or granite armies are branded with the art of the stanza though millenniums passed, they still long for the answer I got lyrics wrapped in an obsidian cast screaming poems into a black oblivion vast this is the fire of thought from the eye of the storm channel the effervescence from the pyres that burn at what point did we abandon what we used to believe? that charmed all to follow our numerous fleets its my duty to speak over Elysium beats although the cycles of the seasons are doomed to repeat yet the music we leave will forever bloom from seed and bless our luminous creed, I've seen Jupiter's dreams shine from the earth's core, to the surface it gleams known to puzzle all who seek and cut troops at the knees I'm holding it down till the formulas found or till Fortune has frowned and I soar to the clouds as life gets shorter, the moments abound form a corona around this poem and its sound O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate The goddess provoked and fired her hate in tempests tossed, across the isles and wakes long before we stood tall on the stylobates the mystic man, who can elicit raw writtens somewhere there's a distant land, I used to call heaven I'm at home when I think of the flow of the springs the capacity crowds as the overtures rings no man can comprehend what this lonliness brings lost Pallas to the tides, could have flown on her wings human war coalesces and stomps, weapons are launched and I am loathe to return home, it echoes, it haunts I shook and I froze and took a look at the globe and heard the very last note that I couldn't compose I shook and I froze and took a look at the globe and heard the very last note that I couldn't compose
10.
Holy Thursday (free) 02:43
The Dioscuri, when we get done it’s a ruthless scourge. Let me spell it out: the twin sons of Jupiter. Of course rap is dead, but I carry the corpse. Sketchy figures in a silhouette, nefarious sorts; we dare you to cross shadows with these seraphim lords. Who run circles around the law and embarrass the force. And its not genocide, I’m just clearing the planet; to reset ideals the veneer or the standards. I could rock you to death but that wouldn't be fair, kids don’t ruminate, its not good to compare. You're betting your last buck like the stakes are as high; blatantly lie, kid, but you’re barely making it by. Conquer your territory then proceed to the next just like Caesar to Gaul, cuz you're easy to flex. Pissed cause I gotta come out of the seas where I rest; replacing your whole roster like some seasonal temps, please dog, I wanna see you increase to your best, cause every slug you slung at me, I didn't bleed from my chest. We’ve been deceitful but fresh since evil ingress any females that left, didn't leave cause of sex Rock an armor of mold, deflect the darts that your throw. You're better off sneaking up on me at the watering hole. Rap legends and hack veterans are good for laugh medicine; the last venomous man that lacks deference. Quan could give me sixty minutes to brag that's sicker than your catalog of conscious scripts that you rap; even if you could keep it shorter and sweet; then it'd have the aesthetic of the aborted deceased. Man at your show, you should give some sort of receipt I want my fucking money back cause it bored me to sleep.

about

"It was to the victors the most brilliant of successes, to the vanquished the most calamitous of defeats. For they were utterly and entirely defeated. Their sufferings were on an enormous scale; their loses were, as they say, total. Everything was destroyed and out of many only a few returned."


Fusing the lyricism of ancient epic poetry with surreal, guitar-heavy soundscapes, The Dioscuri is a psychedelic odyssey spanning two seemingly distant eras.

credits

released January 3, 2011

Lyrics and vocals by Louis Mackey
Beats, production and mixing by Dr. Quandary
Additional guitars on Latium by Matt Scott
Introduction on The Triumphant Return read by Kristina Cottone
Cover art and design by Cole Eggen

doctorquandary.com
basicallykillingit.com
kristinacottone.com
konstruct3d.com
worldaroundrecords.com

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Louis Mackey Boston, Massachusetts

Born in the mid-80s in Akron, Ohio. Been and lived many places, brain has changed many times. In debt to the blues and to all music that came before upon whose bones we build. On a mission to make sincere, true, creative and sometimes funny psychedlic hop hop. ... more

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