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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the electroclash 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
the Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
FM Einheit,
Ralphi Rosario,
Robert Görl,
The Searchers,
Sound Behaviour,
The Count Five,
The Wake,
The Martian,
Man Parrish,
The Fuzztones,
The Divine Comedy,
The J.B.'s,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Slits,
Susan Cadogan,
Motorama,
The Dead C,
Darondo,
kango's stein massive,
T. Rex,
The Fugs,
Visage,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Kinks,
Piero Umiliani,
Tres Demented,
Shoche,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ossler,
Spoonie Gee,
Lalann,
Joyce Sims,
Magazine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jeru the Damaja,
B.T. Express,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funky Four + One,
Trumans Water,
Cymande,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mr. Review,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Victims,
Amon Düül,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Subhumans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.