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 Egypt and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 David Axelrod 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Rekid,
Jimmy McGriff,
Niagra,
Jerry's Kids,
B.T. Express,
The Associates,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DJ Style,
Frankie Knuckles,
One Last Wish,
Ohio Players,
Minnie Riperton,
MC5,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brothers Johnson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
Moebius,
The Mojo Men,
James White and The Blacks,
Icehouse,
Zapp,
Q65,
Reagan Youth,
The Mummies,
Porter Ricks,
Easy Going,
Brass Construction,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Model 500,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Los Fastidios,
X-Ray Spex,
Joensuu 1685,
The Durutti Column,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minutemen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harmonia,
Main Source,
Theoretical Girls,
June of 44,
Sun City Girls,
Erykah Badu,
The Victims,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Hill,
Maurizio,
Con Funk Shun,
Arab on Radar,
Thompson Twins,
CMW,
Pierre Henry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brand Nubian,
Skarface,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.