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 Guinea and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dennis Brown,
Peter & Gordon,
Henry Cow,
Stetsasonic,
Laurel Aitken,
Eli Mardock,
Joyce Sims,
The Evens,
Drexciya,
John Holt,
Gang Green,
Urselle,
Matthew Bourne,
The Birthday Party,
Yaz,
The Vogues,
Man Parrish,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
Gang Starr,
Cluster,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Human League,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rites of Spring,
The Walker Brothers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Funkadelic,
Bootsy Collins,
Gang of Four,
Moebius,
Pet Shop Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alison Limerick,
Monks,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ten City,
48th St. Collective,
Absolute Body Control,
Lindisfarne,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids,
Aloha Tigers,
Slave,
Morten Harket,
Aaron Thompson,
Harry Pussy,
This Heat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wire,
E-Dancer,
Massinfluence,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.