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 Morocco and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Residents to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Can,
Jerry's Kids,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Invisible,
The Misunderstood,
Stiv Bators,
Dorothy Ashby,
Circle Jerks,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Juan Atkins,
Kool Moe Dee,
Moss Icon,
Suburban Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Sixth Finger,
Nico,
Black Moon,
Marine Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Nick Fraelich,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
Rekid,
Unwound,
Fugazi,
Arthur Verocai,
The Trojans,
Bronski Beat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Martian,
Das Ding,
Gastr Del Sol,
Radiopuhelimet,
Slave,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
Piero Umiliani,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Half Japanese,
Television,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Donald Byrd,
The Durutti Column,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ituana,
Aaron Thompson,
Negative Approach,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Birthday Party,
Fat Boys,
Monolake,
Morten Harket,
the Sonics,
The Modern Lovers,
These Immortal Souls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Whodini,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slits,
The Seeds,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.