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 Kazakhstan and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 Junior Murvin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pantaleimon,
The Associates,
Chris Corsano,
Surgeon,
The Invisible,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joensuu 1685,
ABBA,
The Human League,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Franke,
A Certain Ratio,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
The Motions,
Monolake,
Jeff Lynne,
Electric Prunes,
Unwound,
June of 44,
Grandmaster Flash,
Colin Newman,
The Gun Club,
World's Most,
John Cale,
Silicon Teens,
Buzzcocks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mandrill,
The Electric Prunes,
Wings,
Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Swell Maps,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Pretty Things,
Masters at Work,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soft Cell,
Slave,
Skarface,
Brick,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lindisfarne,
The Tremeloes,
Mark Hollis,
Thee Headcoats,
Arab on Radar,
Half Japanese,
Ken Boothe,
Bob Dylan,
the Bar-Kays,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aural Exciters,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.