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 Papua New Guinea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Pharoah Sanders,
Davy DMX,
X-Ray Spex,
Moss Icon,
Nico,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joey Negro,
The Raincoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
David Axelrod,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Technova,
Sister Nancy,
Soft Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Michelle Simonal,
Pulsallama,
Sex Pistols,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Accadde A,
EPMD,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Finger,
Lyres,
Mandrill,
the Germs,
Rufus Thomas,
Magazine,
Audionom,
John Lydon,
New York Dolls,
Fela Kuti,
Fear,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Human League,
Black Moon,
Danielle Patucci,
Prince Buster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
T. Rex,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monolake,
The Stooges,
Althea and Donna,
Nils Olav,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blackbyrds,
Sight & Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
a-ha,
Max Romeo,
Arab on Radar,
The Knickerbockers,
Agitation Free,
Joyce Sims,
The Cramps,
Eddi Front,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.