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 Panama and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Drexciya to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sound,
Sugar Minott,
the Slits,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jerry's Kids,
Gastr Del Sol,
Max Romeo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
Freddie Wadling,
Ponytail,
Metal Thangz,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The New Christs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scott Walker,
Nas,
Fela Kuti,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gerry Rafferty,
China Crisis,
Simply Red,
Cecil Taylor,
Main Source,
The Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare,
Rakim,
the Normal,
The Blackbyrds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacques Brel,
Sound Behaviour,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Josef K,
Circle Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
Dead Boys,
Lightning Bolt,
Alton Ellis,
Urselle,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mars,
Half Japanese,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül,
The Gladiators,
Make Up,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mark Hollis,
The Happenings,
The Move,
D'Angelo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Thompson Twins,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.