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 Cambodia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Victims to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Colin Newman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Christie,
Patti Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donald Byrd,
Sandy B,
Freddie Wadling,
Brick,
Yaz,
Tom Boy,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Mills,
Josef K,
Scientists,
Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Pylon,
Matthew Halsall,
Massinfluence,
Joe Smooth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed,
Bob Dylan,
Pantytec,
Ten City,
Lindisfarne,
The Happenings,
UT,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick May,
Agent Orange,
the Sonics,
Sister Nancy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Young Rascals,
Eve St. Jones,
The Velvet Underground,
Procol Harum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Urselle,
The Golliwogs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Q and Not U,
Matthew Bourne,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
Khruangbin,
Wasted Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dave Gahan,
Faust,
David Bowie,
Eddi Front,
Gichy Dan,
Faraquet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.