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 Romania and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 the Human League to the grime 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Count Five,
John Lydon,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lindisfarne,
Toni Rubio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Amazonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Animal Collective,
Cheater Slicks,
Camouflage,
Quantec,
Neil Young,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ken Boothe,
Unwound,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bauhaus,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bootsy Collins,
The Busters,
Chrome,
Carl Craig,
Icehouse,
Eddi Front,
Hot Snakes,
The Residents,
Eli Mardock,
Ultravox,
Blossom Toes,
Unrelated Segments,
Buzzcocks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Colin Newman,
Royal Trux,
Sparks,
Index,
The Fall,
New York Dolls,
Minnie Riperton,
Slick Rick,
L. Decosne,
Janne Schatter,
Archie Shepp,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Fat Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lyres,
Wolf Eyes,
Pierre Henry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Sun City Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.