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 Libya and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Rhythm & Sound to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin 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 linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Accadde A,
Pere Ubu,
The Cramps,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erasure,
Blake Baxter,
Jeff Mills,
The Tremeloes,
Deepchord,
Erykah Badu,
Isaac Hayes,
Q and Not U,
Khruangbin,
Magazine,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Sonics,
Gang Starr,
Glambeats Corp.,
Franke,
Stockholm Monsters,
Excepter,
Bobby Womack,
Clear Light,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Swans,
Parry Music,
The Gap Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boz Scaggs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lakeside,
Tropical Tobacco,
Animal Collective,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jerry's Kids,
Agitation Free,
Talk Talk,
Lalo Schifrin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sound Behaviour,
John Lydon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Procol Harum,
10cc,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jeff Lynne,
Aural Exciters,
June Days,
Brick,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Pus,
The Leaves,
Max Romeo,
Lindisfarne,
Kevin Saunderson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Junior Murvin,
The Dirtbombs,
Althea and Donna,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.