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 Venezuela and from London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Newcleus to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Cell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Copeland,
The Skatalites,
The Martian,
Magma,
Minutemen,
Echospace,
Joe Smooth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
UT,
Funkadelic,
Supertramp,
Absolute Body Control,
Mr. Review,
Eurythmics,
Cecil Taylor,
Nik Kershaw,
China Crisis,
Deakin,
Joyce Sims,
Maurizio,
Camouflage,
Jacob Miller,
Erykah Badu,
Stiv Bators,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Lynne,
U.S. Maple,
The Invisible,
Howard Jones,
Desert Stars,
The Remains,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unwound,
Joensuu 1685,
Jandek,
Ronnie Foster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funky Four + One,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Raincoats,
Fear,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Massinfluence,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Bourne,
Tim Buckley,
Goldenarms,
Robert Wyatt,
Shuggie Otis,
Soulsonic Force,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
EPMD,
Scratch Acid,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.