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 Azerbaijan and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Donald Fagen 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
H. Thieme,
Terry Callier,
Dave Gahan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reagan Youth,
Albert Ayler,
Livin' Joy,
Eddi Front,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Visage,
The Invisible,
OOIOO,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fear,
Bluetip,
Loose Ends,
the Normal,
Ponytail,
Kenny Larkin,
Godley & Creme,
The Slackers,
Dawn Penn,
Faraquet,
John Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
Joy Division,
Urselle,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Hutcherson,
In Retrospect,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moody Blues,
Black Bananas,
Marc Almond,
Rapeman,
The Offenders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New Order,
Charles Mingus,
The Techniques,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jacques Brel,
Boz Scaggs,
Junior Murvin,
Harry Pussy,
48th St. Collective,
The Happenings,
Country Teasers,
Nas,
Alison Limerick,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-102,
Thompson Twins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.