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 Bhutan and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 The Buckinghams to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth 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 Victims,
Fatback Band,
The Modern Lovers,
The Stooges,
Tropical Tobacco,
Funky Four + One,
Joensuu 1685,
Derrick Morgan,
World's Most,
Hardrive,
Isaac Hayes,
Johnny Clarke,
Arcadia,
The Fortunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gong,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ultimate Spinach,
Liliput,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marine Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Suicide,
The Black Dice,
Funkadelic,
The Sonics,
The Leaves,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ken Boothe,
Black Sheep,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric Copeland,
LL Cool J,
Nas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eric B and Rakim,
Moebius,
This Heat,
The Residents,
The Divine Comedy,
Deakin,
the Soft Cell,
The Buckinghams,
The Saints,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Henry Cow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Swans,
F. McDonald,
Country Teasers,
Cybotron,
Easy Going,
The Gap Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Surgeon,
Arthur Verocai,
Reagan Youth,
Duran Duran,
T. Rex,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Carl Craig,
Franke,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.