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 Maldives and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bill Wells to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Panda Bear,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jerry's Kids,
Eli Mardock,
Roy Ayers,
David Bowie,
Livin' Joy,
Qualms,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Simply Red,
Bauhaus,
Lyres,
Marc Almond,
Funky Four + One,
The Offenders,
Todd Terry,
Second Layer,
Patti Smith,
Black Moon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zapp,
Quando Quango,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gap Band,
Surgeon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
Au Pairs,
Neu!,
Danielle Patucci,
The Blackbyrds,
Pagans,
The Barracudas,
Black Sheep,
Echospace,
Joy Division,
Skarface,
Dual Sessions,
Sex Pistols,
Kurtis Blow,
The Evens,
48th St. Collective,
Anakelly,
The Litter,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-Ray Spex,
Judy Mowatt,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ronnie Foster,
The Velvet Underground,
Lungfish,
The Skatalites,
The Buckinghams,
Joyce Sims,
Excepter,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.