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 Afghanistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
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 chamberlin 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 Big Daddy Kane to the grime 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Carl Craig,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grauzone,
The Cramps,
Crash Course in Science,
Rotary Connection,
Deadbeat,
Model 500,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Max Romeo,
Das Ding,
Inner City,
Bizarre Inc.,
Danielle Patucci,
PIL,
Wings,
Babytalk,
The United States of America,
Aural Exciters,
Eddi Front,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Icehouse,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Nils Olav,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Angels of Light,
Guru Guru,
Jawbox,
Con Funk Shun,
The Techniques,
Tears for Fears,
Cameo,
Bobby Womack,
Deakin,
Althea and Donna,
U.S. Maple,
Marshall Jefferson,
Funkadelic,
The Index,
Aswad,
Warsaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dual Sessions,
Matthew Halsall,
Mandrill,
Public Image Ltd.,
Adolescents,
The Smiths,
FM Einheit,
Y Pants,
Tim Buckley,
Dorothy Ashby,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yazoo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minny Pops,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Radiohead,
Jacob Miller,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.