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 Korea North and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Yellowson to the punk 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Minnie Riperton,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sällskapet,
Gang Green,
Thee Headcoats,
Fluxion,
The Pop Group,
Peter and Kerry,
Spoonie Gee,
Nation of Ulysses,
Laurel Aitken,
John Foxx,
The Searchers,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
The Litter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Erykah Badu,
The Invisible,
Porter Ricks,
Lightning Bolt,
These Immortal Souls,
Hardrive,
Camberwell Now,
Angry Samoans,
Ken Boothe,
E-Dancer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sam Rivers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sex Pistols,
Rod Modell,
Dead Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Skaos,
Swell Maps,
Eric Dolphy,
Bob Dylan,
Spandau Ballet,
the Slits,
Radiopuhelimet,
DJ Style,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sister Nancy,
Surgeon,
Quando Quango,
Nas,
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed,
The Real Kids,
Con Funk Shun,
Tim Buckley,
Bauhaus,
ABBA,
Godley & Creme,
The Fuzztones,
The Dirtbombs,
Monks,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.