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 South Sudan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Human League to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Q65,
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blues Magoos,
T. Rex,
Faraquet,
The Moody Blues,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-102,
Groovy Waters,
June of 44,
Neu!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brand Nubian,
Fugazi,
Wings,
Fat Boys,
The Invisible,
OOIOO,
LL Cool J,
The Count Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Todd Terry,
Excepter,
the Sonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Funky Four + One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Womack,
Blancmange,
Altered Images,
Desert Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Kaleidoscope,
Tubeway Army,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Evens,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
Piero Umiliani,
Ludus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Make Up,
Eli Mardock,
Ultra Naté,
David McCallum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.