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 Uganda and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
D'Angelo,
Banda Bassotti,
Tears for Fears,
Inner City,
Heaven 17,
Bill Near,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Maurizio,
Barbara Tucker,
The Pretty Things,
Joensuu 1685,
Man Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Urselle,
Qualms,
Easy Going,
Trumans Water,
The United States of America,
Essential Logic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
X-102,
the Human League,
The Fuzztones,
Scott Walker,
Aural Exciters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Barracudas,
Sound Behaviour,
Toni Rubio,
Joey Negro,
Massinfluence,
Bad Manners,
Harmonia,
Graham Central Station,
Faraquet,
Todd Terry,
Fear,
Lalo Schifrin,
Warsaw,
Al Stewart,
UT,
The Index,
Crash Course in Science,
Delta 5,
Clear Light,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Slits,
Surgeon,
Schoolly D,
Lebanon Hanover,
Newcleus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Charles Mingus,
DJ Sneak,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.