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 Italy and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lucky Dragons to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
The Walker Brothers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
Mary Jane Girls,
F. McDonald,
Donald Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Dual Sessions,
Deepchord,
Grey Daturas,
T. Rex,
Spandau Ballet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yazoo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fortunes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pagans,
Lakeside,
Section 25,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül,
Sexual Harrassment,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Finger,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Infiniti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Livin' Joy,
John Foxx,
The Index,
EPMD,
Eve St. Jones,
The United States of America,
The Skatalites,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Enemy,
Maleditus Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ohio Players,
Bill Near,
Sarah Menescal,
The Buckinghams,
Derrick Morgan,
Graham Central Station,
Boredoms,
Saccharine Trust,
Popol Vuh,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Television,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.