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 Mozambique and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Boredoms,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Al Stewart,
Half Japanese,
Stetsasonic,
Glenn Branca,
Shoche,
The Happenings,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Parrish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Wells,
Khruangbin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fela Kuti,
Vainqueur,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nick Fraelich,
Tom Boy,
Isaac Hayes,
Stiv Bators,
Bush Tetras,
Aswad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oblivians,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Idris Muhammad,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nik Kershaw,
Sällskapet,
Faraquet,
ABBA,
Simply Red,
Pierre Henry,
Glambeats Corp.,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Byrd,
Bauhaus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
R.M.O.,
The New Christs,
Rites of Spring,
Country Teasers,
Urselle,
Charles Mingus,
The Knickerbockers,
Whodini,
Scan 7,
Magazine,
Fugazi,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stereo Dub,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed,
Rekid,
Sister Nancy,
Ronan,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.