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 Mongolia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Robert Palmer 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 Peter and Kerry to the rap 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tropical Tobacco,
Motorama,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Chrome,
Peter and Kerry,
Tomorrow,
Aural Exciters,
Flash Fearless,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mantronix,
Chris & Cosey,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lyres,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Misunderstood,
The Techniques,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crispian St. Peters,
Toni Rubio,
The Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thee Headcoats,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
H. Thieme,
Alphaville,
Intrusion,
Johnny Clarke,
Mark Hollis,
Wally Richardson,
John Coltrane,
Boredoms,
The Residents,
Schoolly D,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scrapy,
Grey Daturas,
Robert Wyatt,
Tres Demented,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joy Division,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skaos,
Jerry's Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Raincoats,
F. McDonald,
Arthur Verocai,
Todd Rundgren,
Rekid,
James White and The Blacks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Flipper,
Bad Manners,
The New Christs,
Henry Cow,
Godley & Creme,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.