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 Cape Verde and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Morten Harket to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Sexual Harrassment,
The New Christs,
Freddie Wadling,
Q65,
Maleditus Sound,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sonics,
Wire,
Brass Construction,
Fort Wilson Riot,
DJ Style,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ronan,
Ituana,
The Pop Group,
Glenn Branca,
U.S. Maple,
The Kinks,
T.S.O.L.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rites of Spring,
Kurtis Blow,
Qualms,
Siglo XX,
One Last Wish,
Sun Ra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
48th St. Collective,
kango's stein massive,
Fluxion,
The Gap Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Television Personalities,
The Birthday Party,
FM Einheit,
The Toasters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Raincoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fugs,
Jeff Mills,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Human League,
Stetsasonic,
Minny Pops,
The Dirtbombs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Camouflage,
Wally Richardson,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Moody Blues,
The Fortunes,
World's Most,
Supertramp,
Gregory Isaacs,
Outsiders,
Malaria!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Young Marble Giants,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.