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 Lithuania and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 OOIOO to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Grass Roots,
Ituana,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABC,
Scientists,
Unwound,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lindisfarne,
Monolake,
Average White Band,
Roy Ayers,
Nico,
David Axelrod,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Knickerbockers,
kango's stein massive,
Q and Not U,
Donny Hathaway,
Mantronix,
Alison Limerick,
Fugazi,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gabor Szabo,
The Blackbyrds,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Green,
Slick Rick,
Urselle,
The Divine Comedy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Technova,
Sonny Sharrock,
Iggy Pop,
The Motions,
The Selecter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Siglo XX,
Black Pus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Holt,
Rites of Spring,
The Real Kids,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Swans,
Susan Cadogan,
Jacques Brel,
Derrick May,
James White and The Blacks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Names,
Livin' Joy,
Main Source,
The Modern Lovers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.