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 Hungary and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 linndrum 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 Sister Nancy 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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Y Pants,
Skriet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Blues Magoos,
Supertramp,
The Kinks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Henry Cow,
Josef K,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultimate Spinach,
Quadrant,
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lucky Dragons,
The Evens,
Zapp,
Monolake,
Colin Newman,
Scion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Germs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moss Icon,
June of 44,
Niagra,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
New Age Steppers,
The Victims,
The Walker Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Index,
Radiohead,
Ken Boothe,
Roy Ayers,
Pantytec,
Delta 5,
New York Dolls,
Ponytail,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Starr,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alton Ellis,
Stereo Dub,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lindisfarne,
Ohio Players,
Junior Murvin,
Amon Düül,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sixth Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grey Daturas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bluetip,
Scott Walker,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.