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 St Lucia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare 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 Matthew Halsall to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Easy Going,
Bad Manners,
Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
Tropical Tobacco,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
Wolf Eyes,
a-ha,
Fad Gadget,
The Wake,
Slave,
Sällskapet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Qualms,
Essential Logic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Audionom,
Moby Grape,
Barrington Levy,
Marine Girls,
Wings,
The Stooges,
Wasted Youth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ponytail,
Minor Threat,
DJ Sneak,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Agent Orange,
The Cowsills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Saints,
Jerry's Kids,
the Germs,
The Fuzztones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Names,
Fluxion,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
Funky Four + One,
Cameo,
Vladislav Delay,
Aural Exciters,
Ludus,
Anthony Braxton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arab on Radar,
Soft Cell,
New York Dolls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter & Gordon,
Icehouse,
Panda Bear,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.