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 Algeria and from Accra.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Section 25 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Mad Mike,
Accadde A,
Livin' Joy,
Moby Grape,
Mars,
Symarip,
Spandau Ballet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Au Pairs,
Ten City,
Mission of Burma,
Jeff Mills,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Clarke,
Chris & Cosey,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Dolphy,
Cheater Slicks,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
Suicide,
Gabor Szabo,
Icehouse,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
The Pop Group,
Lou Reed,
Nils Olav,
Amon Düül II,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radiohead,
Bill Wells,
Sixth Finger,
Davy DMX,
Hasil Adkins,
The Motions,
Kenny Larkin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Stetsasonic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Basic Channel,
Susan Cadogan,
Wire,
Amazonics,
Arthur Verocai,
Kas Product,
48th St. Collective,
Joy Division,
Vainqueur,
Negative Approach,
Smog,
Sonic Youth,
Funkadelic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Whodini,
kango's stein massive,
The Index,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.