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 Jamaica and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 F. McDonald to the disco 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
The Smiths,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
Zero Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra,
The Litter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
Slave,
Erykah Badu,
The Index,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Womack,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marcia Griffiths,
10cc,
The Doors,
The Flesh Eaters,
Infiniti,
Dark Day,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeff Mills,
Section 25,
The Fugs,
Angry Samoans,
Anthony Braxton,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tres Demented,
Morten Harket,
Vainqueur,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yellowson,
Hasil Adkins,
June Days,
X-Ray Spex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Hood,
Porter Ricks,
David McCallum,
Panda Bear,
Television Personalities,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronnie Foster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ohio Players,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang On A Can,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.