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 Madagascar and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 48th St. Collective to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
Gang Green,
Howard Jones,
Surgeon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
UT,
Porter Ricks,
The Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
Cluster,
Cecil Taylor,
R.M.O.,
Rapeman,
Stiv Bators,
Flipper,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
Derrick May,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nik Kershaw,
The Barracudas,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Fraelich,
Maleditus Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Robert Wyatt,
Massinfluence,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Whodini,
The Saints,
David Bowie,
the Normal,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Index,
Supertramp,
Davy DMX,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mandrill,
The Dead C,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
Ice-T,
Joyce Sims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New Order,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jacques Brel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Anakelly,
The Gap Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Happenings,
Agitation Free,
Thompson Twins,
Crispian St. Peters,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.