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 Serbia and from Accra.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 The Names to the funk 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Knickerbockers,
Franke,
Scott Walker,
Harry Pussy,
Alice Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amon Düül II,
The Dead C,
Flipper,
Arab on Radar,
Michelle Simonal,
Hoover,
the Slits,
Cymande,
The Birthday Party,
The Associates,
Kurtis Blow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Aaron Thompson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pagans,
Graham Central Station,
the Association,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Happenings,
Basic Channel,
Warsaw,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Moleskins,
Darondo,
LL Cool J,
The Motions,
Icehouse,
Swell Maps,
Joensuu 1685,
Aural Exciters,
Neu!,
Sarah Menescal,
The Shadows of Knight,
Intrusion,
The Moody Blues,
Spoonie Gee,
Byron Stingily,
Parry Music,
Fela Kuti,
Monks,
Eurythmics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Organ,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Urselle,
Dave Gahan,
These Immortal Souls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stereo Dub,
Circle Jerks,
Skaos,
Television Personalities,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.