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 Panama and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Letta Mbulu to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
This Heat,
Cameo,
Organ,
Zero Boys,
Fatback Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
Iggy Pop,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pere Ubu,
The Slackers,
The Human League,
Boz Scaggs,
Crooked Eye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scrapy,
Fad Gadget,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
U.S. Maple,
Lindisfarne,
Barbara Tucker,
Hasil Adkins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aural Exciters,
Second Layer,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gladiators,
Sun Ra,
Rekid,
The Neon Judgement,
Marine Girls,
Flash Fearless,
The Sound,
Ten City,
Kenny Larkin,
X-101,
Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Robert Wyatt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quantec,
Urselle,
Faust,
Malaria!,
Charles Mingus,
Infiniti,
Ronan,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Jacob Miller,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick Morgan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.