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 Qatar and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Stockholm Monsters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet,
Junior Murvin,
Marine Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Tres Demented,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
Sam Rivers,
Porter Ricks,
Young Marble Giants,
Jawbox,
Donny Hathaway,
Moby Grape,
Warsaw,
The Slackers,
Colin Newman,
Stockholm Monsters,
T. Rex,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Charles Mingus,
Dennis Brown,
Slick Rick,
Interpol,
Roy Ayers,
Liliput,
Echospace,
The Golliwogs,
Maleditus Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
One Last Wish,
Joyce Sims,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
The Saints,
Wally Richardson,
Kayak,
Lucky Dragons,
Nils Olav,
Drexciya,
Ken Boothe,
The New Christs,
Technova,
Dead Boys,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Agent Orange,
The Trojans,
Kerri Chandler,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fluxion,
Negative Approach,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dirtbombs,
Alice Coltrane,
The Names,
Michelle Simonal,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.