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 Andorra and from Shanghai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Outsiders to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
John Holt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Alton Ellis,
The Misunderstood,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Durutti Column,
Godley & Creme,
The Zeros,
Howard Jones,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Colin Newman,
Nik Kershaw,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Urselle,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dual Sessions,
48th St. Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
Visage,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brick,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Heaven 17,
The Gladiators,
The Fugs,
Roger Hodgson,
Glenn Branca,
Patti Smith,
Oblivians,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eden Ahbez,
Technova,
Unwound,
Lalann,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
One Last Wish,
Depeche Mode,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ludus,
Matthew Halsall,
Dark Day,
Sparks,
Alice Coltrane,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.