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 Argentina and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Loose Ends to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
L. Decosne,
The Dirtbombs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Niagra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Byron Stingily,
Rod Modell,
Adolescents,
The American Breed,
Roxy Music,
Ossler,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Organ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Hill,
Barbara Tucker,
The Martian,
The Angels of Light,
Funky Four + One,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oblivians,
Mantronix,
Robert Wyatt,
Terry Callier,
the Sonics,
Fat Boys,
John Coltrane,
Unwound,
Joensuu 1685,
Bill Wells,
Liliput,
Hasil Adkins,
Reuben Wilson,
The Standells,
U.S. Maple,
Warren Ellis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
New Order,
Suicide,
Tubeway Army,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ituana,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Matthew Halsall,
Erasure,
The Gap Band,
Radio Birdman,
Kas Product,
Bush Tetras,
Simply Red,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.