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 Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
CMW,
Moss Icon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aural Exciters,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Bar-Kays,
Gastr Del Sol,
Zero Boys,
Dawn Penn,
The Victims,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Intrusion,
Tim Buckley,
Letta Mbulu,
H. Thieme,
Simply Red,
Jimmy McGriff,
Country Teasers,
Subhumans,
Little Man,
Crispy Ambulance,
Royal Trux,
Shoche,
Model 500,
World's Most,
Anakelly,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grauzone,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Depeche Mode,
Zapp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slick Rick,
Iggy Pop,
Scion,
Alphaville,
Sonic Youth,
D'Angelo,
The Slits,
Barry Ungar,
Neu!,
Isaac Hayes,
Bang On A Can,
Qualms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Panda Bear,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brothers Johnson,
The Monochrome Set,
Carl Craig,
The Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Idris Muhammad,
The Moody Blues,
Au Pairs,
Tres Demented,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.