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 Uruguay and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Duran Duran to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hoover,
Popol Vuh,
Sex Pistols,
Average White Band,
Connie Case,
Qualms,
The Blackbyrds,
X-Ray Spex,
Tim Buckley,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mr. Review,
a-ha,
Lucky Dragons,
Deepchord,
kango's stein massive,
Robert Hood,
Scion,
Marc Almond,
Reagan Youth,
Simply Red,
Funky Four + One,
Lalann,
Can,
Sandy B,
Todd Terry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Womack,
The Trojans,
The Invisible,
Babytalk,
The Sound,
Grauzone,
China Crisis,
The Star Department,
The Tremeloes,
Warsaw,
The Grass Roots,
Mark Hollis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
L. Decosne,
Outsiders,
the Human League,
Bluetip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Zeros,
Mary Jane Girls,
Little Man,
Fela Kuti,
John Coltrane,
Cheater Slicks,
Donald Byrd,
ABBA,
Kerri Chandler,
Bill Wells,
The Associates,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mad Mike,
Todd Rundgren,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.