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 Algeria and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Piero Umiliani to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Japan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Techniques,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Livin' Joy,
A Certain Ratio,
Cluster,
The Five Americans,
Moss Icon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
OOIOO,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
Sex Pistols,
Shuggie Otis,
Y Pants,
Carl Craig,
Ultravox,
Scrapy,
Wings,
the Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Warren Ellis,
The Associates,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
Funky Four + One,
Ossler,
Intrusion,
The Names,
Dawn Penn,
Second Layer,
Joensuu 1685,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Accadde A,
Isaac Hayes,
The Litter,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Busters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Juan Atkins,
Black Pus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faraquet,
Average White Band,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
Jeff Mills,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barry Ungar,
The Blues Magoos,
Rod Modell,
The Angels of Light,
Procol Harum,
Essential Logic,
Boredoms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.