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-Bissau and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scan 7 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Birthday Party,
Fad Gadget,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skarface,
Television,
Saccharine Trust,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Whodini,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Suburban Knight,
Camouflage,
Trumans Water,
Howard Jones,
Radiohead,
Sight & Sound,
The Kinks,
Roger Hodgson,
Henry Cow,
David Axelrod,
Alison Limerick,
Archie Shepp,
X-Ray Spex,
Camberwell Now,
Donald Byrd,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The New Christs,
The Wake,
Rites of Spring,
Ituana,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swell Maps,
Man Parrish,
Jacob Miller,
Nation of Ulysses,
Funky Four + One,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eddi Front,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sonny Sharrock,
Main Source,
The Remains,
The Neon Judgement,
R.M.O.,
The Raincoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Divine Comedy,
Nirvana,
Liliput,
Eric Copeland,
Lightning Bolt,
Y Pants,
Carl Craig,
the Slits,
Quando Quango,
Todd Terry,
Pere Ubu,
Public Enemy,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.