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 Kuwait and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 E-Dancer 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Make Up,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül,
Au Pairs,
Tim Buckley,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Big Daddy Kane,
Liliput,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Bananas,
Sparks,
The Star Department,
Cheater Slicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Symarip,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Monolake,
Aloha Tigers,
Warren Ellis,
The Birthday Party,
Barclay James Harvest,
Flipper,
Amon Düül II,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Michelle Simonal,
Can,
Fat Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sex Pistols,
Pole,
The Index,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
T.S.O.L.,
Eddi Front,
X-Ray Spex,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yellowson,
Pet Shop Boys,
ABC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Near,
The Stooges,
Nils Olav,
Kurtis Blow,
Flash Fearless,
Smog,
Zapp,
Suicide,
Dennis Brown,
Joey Negro,
Television,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Easy Going,
Gichy Dan,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.