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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 The Alarm Clocks to the jazz 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Sugar Minott,
Ituana,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gun Club,
Cecil Taylor,
Terry Callier,
Bauhaus,
Technova,
Robert Hood,
The Techniques,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reuben Wilson,
Oneida,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Albert Ayler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Slits,
Thompson Twins,
Moss Icon,
The Five Americans,
The Trojans,
Blake Baxter,
X-102,
Con Funk Shun,
F. McDonald,
Sandy B,
Joy Division,
Nik Kershaw,
Lightning Bolt,
June Days,
Schoolly D,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fela Kuti,
The Kinks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultimate Spinach,
T.S.O.L.,
Absolute Body Control,
New Age Steppers,
Cal Tjader,
Bob Dylan,
The Alarm Clocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Joe & The Fish,
La Düsseldorf,
Dave Gahan,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultra Naté,
Minor Threat,
Intrusion,
Scott Walker,
Ten City,
Simply Red,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Cell,
Davy DMX,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.