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 Cuba and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ken Boothe to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Idris Muhammad,
Skarface,
Clear Light,
H. Thieme,
Yellowson,
Grauzone,
Lyres,
Nik Kershaw,
Surgeon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Sherman,
R.M.O.,
Ossler,
Alton Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crooked Eye,
The Barracudas,
Boogie Down Productions,
Howard Jones,
The Last Poets,
Roger Hodgson,
Warsaw,
Con Funk Shun,
Supertramp,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Neon Judgement,
Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABC,
The Mummies,
Pantytec,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rufus Thomas,
Funky Four + One,
Chris & Cosey,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
B.T. Express,
Rotary Connection,
Interpol,
Skaos,
Cal Tjader,
MC5,
Animal Collective,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Leaves,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mr. Review,
The Knickerbockers,
the Germs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roy Ayers,
Matthew Bourne,
Audionom,
Khruangbin,
Aswad,
Dorothy Ashby,
Radiohead,
the Association,
The Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.