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?