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 St Lucia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Desert Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Moleskins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liliput,
MDC,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crime,
Dawn Penn,
Eli Mardock,
Carl Craig,
Al Stewart,
The Remains,
New Age Steppers,
The Slits,
Silicon Teens,
Kevin Saunderson,
E-Dancer,
Saccharine Trust,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
Joey Negro,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harry Pussy,
Don Cherry,
The Happenings,
Lower 48,
DNA,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Blues Magoos,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Angry Samoans,
Skarface,
The Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Count Five,
Brand Nubian,
Marvin Gaye,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
World's Most,
Scott Walker,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Man Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Yaz,
Slick Rick,
Sam Rivers,
Masters at Work,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Unrelated Segments,
Agent Orange,
The Toasters,
The Neon Judgement,
Pierre Henry,
Bob Dylan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ten City,
Crispy Ambulance,
Television Personalities,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.