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 Solomon Islands and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Josef K,
Organ,
The Music Machine,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Holt,
The Gladiators,
John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Agitation Free,
Jacques Brel,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
Pulsallama,
Massinfluence,
Leonard Cohen,
Outsiders,
Man Eating Sloth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Television Personalities,
The Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
The Human League,
Shuggie Otis,
X-102,
Cal Tjader,
Essential Logic,
Heaven 17,
Bill Wells,
The Trojans,
JFA,
Gang of Four,
Bill Near,
Robert Wyatt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Von Mondo,
Barry Ungar,
Bad Manners,
F. McDonald,
New York Dolls,
Khruangbin,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
The Moleskins,
Stiv Bators,
Brothers Johnson,
John Coltrane,
The Victims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
kango's stein massive,
Suburban Knight,
Pagans,
Severed Heads,
Theoretical Girls,
Schoolly D,
Toni Rubio,
Carl Craig,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.