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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Swans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slick Rick,
Nils Olav,
OOIOO,
Qualms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sex Pistols,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brand Nubian,
Infiniti,
Warren Ellis,
Jeff Mills,
Dave Gahan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Josef K,
Ultra Naté,
Howard Jones,
Don Cherry,
Tom Boy,
Make Up,
Freddie Wadling,
Deepchord,
Anakelly,
The Slackers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June of 44,
Tres Demented,
Michelle Simonal,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Vogues,
Nirvana,
Yusef Lateef,
Quadrant,
New Order,
The Tremeloes,
The Dirtbombs,
Sound Behaviour,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bill Wells,
Porter Ricks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chris Corsano,
The Move,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sällskapet,
Glenn Branca,
the Soft Cell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Malaria!,
Mark Hollis,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Cell,
Mandrill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The J.B.'s,
Maurizio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
David McCallum,
Jacob Miller,
Von Mondo,
Amazonics,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.