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 Djibouti and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 United States of America to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Interpol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Foxx,
Gabor Szabo,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Rundgren,
Rakim,
Shuggie Otis,
Clear Light,
Porter Ricks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Josef K,
The Seeds,
Pulsallama,
DNA,
Fad Gadget,
Tomorrow,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Bananas,
Oneida,
Toni Rubio,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hashim,
Saccharine Trust,
Davy DMX,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Residents,
Bill Wells,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun Ra,
The Fall,
Scion,
Anakelly,
Scott Walker,
Kurtis Blow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Adolescents,
H. Thieme,
Darondo,
Dark Day,
L. Decosne,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monochrome Set,
Parry Music,
Slave,
Tropical Tobacco,
China Crisis,
Derrick May,
Peter and Kerry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Maurizio,
Funkadelic,
Rosa Yemen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Y Pants,
the Slits,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.