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 Poland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cheater Slicks to the funk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Rapeman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Can,
The Toasters,
Faraquet,
Hasil Adkins,
Alice Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
The Slackers,
Pantaleimon,
Japan,
Juan Atkins,
Au Pairs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oneida,
Ice-T,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
the Germs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sällskapet,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
F. McDonald,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ludus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Brothers Johnson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Basic Channel,
Hashim,
Lungfish,
Spoonie Gee,
48th St. Collective,
Khruangbin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Pus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Whodini,
Morten Harket,
MC5,
Soul II Soul,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oblivians,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Archie Shepp,
Yellowson,
The Litter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eli Mardock,
Zero Boys,
Gong,
Wasted Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.