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 Nepal and from Milan.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Reuben Wilson to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Glenn Branca,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joey Negro,
Black Flag,
Swans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
The Martian,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wire,
Cluster,
Bob Dylan,
Maurizio,
The Fortunes,
The Doors,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Busters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rotary Connection,
Pulsallama,
T. Rex,
Public Enemy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scott Walker,
Todd Terry,
Hot Snakes,
Negative Approach,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minor Threat,
Arab on Radar,
Chrome,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aaron Thompson,
Sarah Menescal,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
Swell Maps,
Bush Tetras,
Janne Schatter,
Technova,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
E-Dancer,
The Divine Comedy,
Eli Mardock,
Main Source,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Hashim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Young Rascals,
Sugar Minott,
Dawn Penn,
Radiopuhelimet,
Colin Newman,
Franke,
Roxy Music,
Malaria!,
Brass Construction,
The Blackbyrds,
Boz Scaggs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bluetip,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.