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 Tunisia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba 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 Ronnie Foster to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Arcadia,
F. McDonald,
Mo-Dettes,
Quando Quango,
Los Fastidios,
Royal Trux,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mark Hollis,
Blossom Toes,
Sandy B,
Joy Division,
Sam Rivers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Darondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Adolescents,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dirtbombs,
One Last Wish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Guru Guru,
Excepter,
Susan Cadogan,
Jandek,
Joe Smooth,
Panda Bear,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
T.S.O.L.,
Pussy Galore,
Minnie Riperton,
Flamin' Groovies,
Subhumans,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Desert Stars,
L. Decosne,
Con Funk Shun,
Archie Shepp,
Unwound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Erykah Badu,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Halsall,
The Victims,
The Divine Comedy,
Lightning Bolt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Swans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Leonard Cohen,
The Moody Blues,
Eli Mardock,
Albert Ayler,
Ossler,
Amazonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Icehouse,
Bobby Byrd,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.