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 Canada and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeff Lynne to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Arcadia,
Country Teasers,
Marcia Griffiths,
LL Cool J,
Crime,
Anthony Braxton,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dennis Brown,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fortunes,
Young Marble Giants,
Technova,
Khruangbin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Drexciya,
Glenn Branca,
Sandy B,
Gang of Four,
Black Pus,
Thompson Twins,
Ken Boothe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Godley & Creme,
Scott Walker,
Bad Manners,
the Sonics,
The New Christs,
The Toasters,
Groovy Waters,
The Music Machine,
Desert Stars,
Crooked Eye,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Slick Rick,
The Divine Comedy,
Bluetip,
Kurtis Blow,
Mission of Burma,
OOIOO,
the Bar-Kays,
Magazine,
Brass Construction,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Byrd,
The Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moby Grape,
Brand Nubian,
John Foxx,
The Red Krayola,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.