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 Italy and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the jazz 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex 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?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Coltrane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minny Pops,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Slackers,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Leaves,
The Moody Blues,
Black Moon,
10cc,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Neon Judgement,
Kerri Chandler,
The Evens,
ABC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soft Machine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
AZ,
Joy Division,
Scan 7,
Porter Ricks,
Rapeman,
The Zeros,
F. McDonald,
Lou Christie,
The Fortunes,
Toni Rubio,
Soul Sonic Force,
Faust,
Cymande,
Bang On A Can,
The Golliwogs,
The Names,
Television,
B.T. Express,
Supertramp,
Wally Richardson,
This Heat,
Lungfish,
Unrelated Segments,
Wire,
Roxy Music,
Silicon Teens,
The Fugs,
Qualms,
Suburban Knight,
Skriet,
Hardrive,
The Grass Roots,
Radiopuhelimet,
MDC,
The Buckinghams,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Vogues,
The Raincoats,
Al Stewart,
Marc Almond,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.