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 Armenia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Half Japanese to the grunge 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ten City,
Aaron Thompson,
Liliput,
Sam Rivers,
Josef K,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Isaac Hayes,
Zapp,
Ronan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Cluster,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Animal Collective,
Byron Stingily,
Amazonics,
Rakim,
Davy DMX,
Piero Umiliani,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Standells,
The Fuzztones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
T. Rex,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeff Lynne,
Lyres,
Heaven 17,
Sixth Finger,
The Durutti Column,
Khruangbin,
Scratch Acid,
OOIOO,
Mission of Burma,
Archie Shepp,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gun Club,
Grey Daturas,
The Five Americans,
Eden Ahbez,
The Buckinghams,
Bauhaus,
Simply Red,
Mandrill,
Shuggie Otis,
Gong,
H. Thieme,
Can,
The Fortunes,
Agent Orange,
Henry Cow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Invisible,
Howard Jones,
The Smiths,
Letta Mbulu,
R.M.O.,
A Certain Ratio,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.