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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Holger Czukay 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 Maleditus Sound to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Moody Blues,
Swans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wolf Eyes,
Graham Central Station,
Joe Smooth,
Barry Ungar,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
The Raincoats,
The Star Department,
Supertramp,
Sight & Sound,
Deakin,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Pus,
LL Cool J,
Eric Copeland,
Depeche Mode,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hasil Adkins,
The Invisible,
Arthur Verocai,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fortunes,
Average White Band,
The Evens,
Adolescents,
Gang Green,
Quando Quango,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Cale,
The Red Krayola,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Christie,
Mantronix,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lucky Dragons,
Soul II Soul,
Pere Ubu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Boredoms,
Mo-Dettes,
Jimmy McGriff,
These Immortal Souls,
World's Most,
Alton Ellis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joe Finger,
Mad Mike,
Yellowson,
Max Romeo,
The Monochrome Set,
Rosa Yemen,
Eden Ahbez,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Knickerbockers,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.