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 United Kingdom and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 Tubeway Army to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Flipper,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Invisible,
Simply Red,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wire,
The Smiths,
Black Pus,
Harmonia,
Dawn Penn,
Alice Coltrane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wings,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Music Machine,
The Smoke,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Young Rascals,
Juan Atkins,
The Neon Judgement,
The Searchers,
JFA,
The Fugs,
The Monochrome Set,
The Victims,
Reuben Wilson,
The Buckinghams,
Ossler,
Interpol,
Eric Copeland,
Sugar Minott,
The Sound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Excepter,
Susan Cadogan,
Barrington Levy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
Desert Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
Subhumans,
Kas Product,
MDC,
June Days,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
Cybotron,
Lucky Dragons,
R.M.O.,
The J.B.'s,
Metal Thangz,
The Sonics,
The Index,
The Cramps,
Aloha Tigers,
Royal Trux,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Evens,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.