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 Nicaragua and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Buzzcocks,
Public Enemy,
B.T. Express,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Beau Brummels,
The Buckinghams,
The Young Rascals,
Grey Daturas,
Kurtis Blow,
Connie Case,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joensuu 1685,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bauhaus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
The Cure,
Junior Murvin,
The Smoke,
Outsiders,
Negative Approach,
Pussy Galore,
Barry Ungar,
Joy Division,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rekid,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Standells,
Das Ding,
Archie Shepp,
Echospace,
X-101,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cowsills,
Lightning Bolt,
Niagra,
The Blackbyrds,
The Divine Comedy,
Average White Band,
Fugazi,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dark Day,
Ultra Naté,
Donny Hathaway,
Morten Harket,
Alice Coltrane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
Groovy Waters,
Moebius,
Ice-T,
Howard Jones,
The Last Poets,
Kenny Larkin,
Can,
Mary Jane Girls,
Zero Boys,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.