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 Tuvalu and from Glasgow.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Juan Atkins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Malaria!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Tremeloes,
Johnny Clarke,
The Techniques,
Anthony Braxton,
Joensuu 1685,
Cameo,
Isaac Hayes,
Arcadia,
Joyce Sims,
The Offenders,
The Barracudas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yaz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
John Holt,
Arthur Verocai,
the Germs,
The Skatalites,
Siglo XX,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sandy B,
Dawn Penn,
Country Teasers,
The Pretty Things,
Marc Almond,
Kool Moe Dee,
Quando Quango,
Mantronix,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Remains,
Urselle,
Sonny Sharrock,
Silicon Teens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
The Mummies,
Talk Talk,
Rapeman,
a-ha,
Mr. Review,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Association,
Chris Corsano,
Sun City Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ornette Coleman,
Davy DMX,
Marine Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Fatback Band,
Pole,
The Velvet Underground,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.