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 Peru and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 The Cramps to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Public Enemy,
Deepchord,
Chrome,
Joy Division,
Moebius,
Drexciya,
Echospace,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dead C,
Marc Almond,
Roxette,
Cheater Slicks,
The Moleskins,
Rod Modell,
Alison Limerick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Young Rascals,
Avey Tare,
The Fuzztones,
EPMD,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pole,
Alice Coltrane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sun Ra,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerri Chandler,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monks,
Laurel Aitken,
Franke,
Wire,
Mission of Burma,
Bush Tetras,
James White and The Blacks,
Intrusion,
Ten City,
Depeche Mode,
Deakin,
MC5,
Underground Resistance,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Clarke,
K-Klass,
Tim Buckley,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Angry Samoans,
Whodini,
Interpol,
Young Marble Giants,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stiv Bators,
The Black Dice,
The American Breed,
Rekid,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Erykah Badu,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.