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 the UAE and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Skatalites to the disco 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Marmalade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sight & Sound,
Simply Red,
Main Source,
Tears for Fears,
Don Cherry,
Fluxion,
Darondo,
Roger Hodgson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rites of Spring,
The Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Bluetip,
John Cale,
The Star Department,
Lou Reed,
Agent Orange,
Basic Channel,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
F. McDonald,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-Ray Spex,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tomorrow,
Clear Light,
Rod Modell,
the Soft Cell,
Index,
Flipper,
Quando Quango,
Swell Maps,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crooked Eye,
Sun City Girls,
The Barracudas,
The Saints,
The Blackbyrds,
The Walker Brothers,
New Age Steppers,
Letta Mbulu,
Tom Boy,
MDC,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
Godley & Creme,
Massinfluence,
the Association,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Q and Not U,
Neil Young,
Smog,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erykah Badu,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.