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 Kazakhstan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
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 Andrew Hill to the techno 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
The American Breed,
Qualms,
Aloha Tigers,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Erasure,
Monks,
Q65,
Das Ding,
Johnny Clarke,
Agitation Free,
Echospace,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Smog,
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai,
Eurythmics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Misunderstood,
Susan Cadogan,
Zapp,
Eden Ahbez,
Bootsy Collins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tomorrow,
AZ,
KRS-One,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Charles Mingus,
Jerry's Kids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jacques Brel,
Terry Callier,
Stereo Dub,
Leonard Cohen,
Little Man,
The Selecter,
Lou Christie,
Mo-Dettes,
Mad Mike,
Robert Hood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Velvet Underground,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Neil Young,
Janne Schatter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultra Naté,
The Pop Group,
Magazine,
Patti Smith,
Black Pus,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeff Mills,
Warren Ellis,
Crash Course in Science,
The Victims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.