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 Bahrain and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Can,
Joyce Sims,
Aural Exciters,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
The Tremeloes,
Pantaleimon,
Cluster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ituana,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Sheep,
Trumans Water,
Michelle Simonal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doors,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reuben Wilson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pantytec,
Barry Ungar,
Popol Vuh,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
K-Klass,
The Searchers,
The Gun Club,
Lyres,
Chrome,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minnie Riperton,
Skarface,
Unwound,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Human League,
Country Teasers,
The Star Department,
Electric Prunes,
Icehouse,
Mark Hollis,
Buzzcocks,
Bill Near,
Hoover,
Ludus,
The Smoke,
Average White Band,
Aaron Thompson,
The Grass Roots,
Ossler,
Ultravox,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bronski Beat,
The Residents,
Wally Richardson,
Piero Umiliani,
It's A Beautiful Day,
David McCallum,
Boz Scaggs,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.