I like to pretend I’m some kind of producer, but I’m no innovator When I drop a track, I’m more like a clumsy waiter I spend hours on end fiddling with audio minutiae Yet through sheer misuse, this goose lays a golden egg later One night I was working so long I somehow flipped a switch that was somehow wrong And then I, you know, dropped the mix I uploaded five minutes of absolutely nothing, total silence But then I thought, why not leave it up there, just for kicks I called it Damian Cowell's Disco Machine A post post post post post post modernist critique At least that's what I said When sometime later they interviewed me for Future Music Magazine But really it was the first thing that came into my head I called it Damian Cowell's Disco Machine Months pa**ed, no one gave an arse, least of all me My bullsh** lining stayed up there in the cloud Then suddenly, hits on me rise exponentially And I get messaged by someone in Chiarascuro's crowd Chiarascuro, world's hottest DJ no less Chiarascuro, every remix wish list top name Chiarascuro played my silent track at Modern Unconsciousness She said music as we know it would never be the same It was called Damian Cowell's Disco Machine My arrival went viral, the zine sensed the scene They called it nostep And soon competing DJ's were taunting their rivals to be more extreme A track by Shandy Warhol called empire state build up went for one entire day and Chiarascuro was the lightning conductor Her invisible ink tattoos glowing vivid hues only when the lights turn red I was Chiarascuro's curio, her one hit wonder I was fated, and my sneakers migrated under her bed There was a school of thought amongst certain DJ's That when you're listening to silence, vinyl is the only true way Some built huge systems to enhance the aural abyss There were 451 subgenres of retro ca**ette hiss Some kids danced to their internal groove Some kids stayed rigid, didn't want to be the first to move Isolation tanks became the accessory du jour Around the world you could hear a pin drop on the dance floor When it hit Cooder? and Ibiza Chiarascuro said it was beneath her You know it's over when you hear her on a bank ad She stopped taking my calls And hitched stable with some turntable prodigy from Nepal I was just a pa**ing fad Nostep turned ironic: I was sued by John Cage's estate Now I just stay home alone, me and all my friends But that's okay, I got time, I can wait In three years, you know what will be hip again? Damian Cowell's Disco Machine... Dropped like a body bag with a sneaky air pocket I might turn up when you least expect it Dropped like a summons in your letterbox Dropped - Chiarascuro! Sorry - Have we met?