Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bosnia Herzegovina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Terrestrial Tones to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Lightning Bolt,
The J.B.'s,
Davy DMX,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick May,
Slick Rick,
Erasure,
Sugar Minott,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sällskapet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
In Retrospect,
Unwound,
Basic Channel,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
E-Dancer,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
Niagra,
The Invisible,
Hasil Adkins,
Maleditus Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Seeds,
Lower 48,
The Evens,
Mantronix,
Excepter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Procol Harum,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fear,
The American Breed,
Black Pus,
Liliput,
Livin' Joy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hashim,
Charles Mingus,
Fugazi,
Ossler,
The Black Dice,
Essential Logic,
Arthur Verocai,
Gichy Dan,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun Ra,
Surgeon,
Junior Murvin,
Carl Craig,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sonic Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Bananas,
The Smoke,
Don Cherry,
X-101,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.