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 Laos and from Woodstock.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Danielle Patucci to the funk 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Nirvana,
Crooked Eye,
The American Breed,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mantronix,
Fatback Band,
OOIOO,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Womack,
The Smoke,
Icehouse,
Pylon,
The Raincoats,
Avey Tare,
The Names,
Patti Smith,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nico,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Association,
Marine Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Spandau Ballet,
the Normal,
Boredoms,
Lower 48,
Quantec,
Circle Jerks,
Sparks,
Mandrill,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Newcleus,
Blossom Toes,
Jandek,
Yusef Lateef,
Siglo XX,
Ronnie Foster,
Kevin Saunderson,
Heaven 17,
Howard Jones,
DJ Style,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Con Funk Shun,
Cluster,
The Seeds,
The Mummies,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tres Demented,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eddi Front,
Basic Channel,
Silicon Teens,
Deakin,
Matthew Bourne,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.