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 Barbados and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba 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 Harry Pussy to the rock 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Sixth Finger,
H. Thieme,
Desert Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Derrick May,
Marvin Gaye,
Accadde A,
Kevin Saunderson,
Piero Umiliani,
K-Klass,
Cluster,
Television Personalities,
Rapeman,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Amon Düül II,
Fatback Band,
Procol Harum,
L. Decosne,
Japan,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Sherman,
Eli Mardock,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Traffic Nightmare,
Ten City,
Don Cherry,
Black Moon,
Lucky Dragons,
Royal Trux,
The Tremeloes,
the Association,
The Gories,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Red Krayola,
Drexciya,
48th St. Collective,
John Coltrane,
Eve St. Jones,
Johnny Clarke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T.S.O.L.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Knickerbockers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jandek,
Absolute Body Control,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q65,
F. McDonald,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Toasters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Niagra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
June of 44,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.