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 Philippines and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe 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 JFA 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Vogues,
Zapp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soft Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Freddie Wadling,
Au Pairs,
EPMD,
The American Breed,
Gabor Szabo,
Lungfish,
Sandy B,
Wolf Eyes,
Alice Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amon Düül,
Erykah Badu,
R.M.O.,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
Camouflage,
Smog,
Ronan,
UT,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alphaville,
Organ,
the Bar-Kays,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agent Orange,
Blossom Toes,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
Soulsonic Force,
Banda Bassotti,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Gang Dance,
a-ha,
Rod Modell,
Roy Ayers,
Con Funk Shun,
U.S. Maple,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Stooges,
Ludus,
Patti Smith,
Slave,
The Monks,
Warsaw,
Darondo,
Yellowson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pierre Henry,
Delta 5,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Move,
Matthew Bourne,
Byron Stingily,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.