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 Honduras and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Cluster to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
The Tremeloes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sun Ra,
The Invisible,
Idris Muhammad,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fat Boys,
Black Pus,
Minnie Riperton,
June Days,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Residents,
the Association,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Absolute Body Control,
Scion,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
Au Pairs,
The Slackers,
Mark Hollis,
Sparks,
Babytalk,
DJ Sneak,
Alphaville,
Amon Düül II,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ronnie Foster,
Jacques Brel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chrome,
Sonny Sharrock,
Letta Mbulu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The New Christs,
The Count Five,
48th St. Collective,
The Durutti Column,
Hoover,
T. Rex,
Brass Construction,
Zero Boys,
The Barracudas,
Matthew Bourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Peter and Kerry,
Funky Four + One,
Derrick May,
The Birthday Party,
Oneida,
Faraquet,
Rosa Yemen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Main Source,
Yellowson,
Television Personalities,
Donald Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.