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 Seychelles and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Michael McDonald 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 Rosa Yemen to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
EPMD,
Crispian St. Peters,
Little Man,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
Half Japanese,
Nas,
Quadrant,
Chris Corsano,
Alton Ellis,
Tom Boy,
Brass Construction,
T. Rex,
Camberwell Now,
Mad Mike,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Traffic Nightmare,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barrington Levy,
K-Klass,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Terrestrial Tones,
Inner City,
The Knickerbockers,
the Normal,
D'Angelo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Adolescents,
The Leaves,
Simply Red,
Kenny Larkin,
The Busters,
Unrelated Segments,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ornette Coleman,
Symarip,
Negative Approach,
The Techniques,
Tubeway Army,
The Last Poets,
Byron Stingily,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispy Ambulance,
Babytalk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Massinfluence,
Black Sheep,
The Litter,
Boredoms,
Television Personalities,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Faraquet,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.