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 Burkina 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Arcadia to the rock 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis,
Japan,
Franke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mandrill,
KRS-One,
Q and Not U,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kenny Larkin,
Wally Richardson,
Altered Images,
Yusef Lateef,
Swell Maps,
Section 25,
Sister Nancy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Parry Music,
Neu!,
The Residents,
The J.B.'s,
Soft Machine,
DNA,
Amon Düül,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cal Tjader,
Boredoms,
Darondo,
Fear,
Cheater Slicks,
The Durutti Column,
Graham Central Station,
LL Cool J,
The Beau Brummels,
The Toasters,
Albert Ayler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yellowson,
Talk Talk,
The Index,
Thee Headcoats,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kas Product,
Bobby Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Lou Christie,
Babytalk,
Chrome,
The Moleskins,
the Human League,
Adolescents,
Swans,
Excepter,
Crime,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Little Man,
Cecil Taylor,
Joensuu 1685,
Young Marble Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.