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 Netherlands and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin 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 Pierre Henry to the rap 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Janne Schatter,
The Durutti Column,
MC5,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bob Dylan,
New Age Steppers,
Lyres,
Monks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Interpol,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Blues Magoos,
JFA,
Hoover,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Near,
Moss Icon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Moon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pylon,
Patti Smith,
Television,
Chris & Cosey,
Andrew Hill,
Jacques Brel,
Bush Tetras,
Roxy Music,
Max Romeo,
Chris Corsano,
Circle Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
The Last Poets,
The Sonics,
Wasted Youth,
Television Personalities,
Spandau Ballet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eddi Front,
In Retrospect,
Slick Rick,
Moebius,
Deadbeat,
Peter and Kerry,
Iggy Pop,
The Stooges,
The Star Department,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Metal Thangz,
PIL,
MDC,
Depeche Mode,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Deepchord,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.