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 Lebanon and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 David Bowie to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Fugazi,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang On A Can,
Suicide,
Desert Stars,
The Associates,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bauhaus,
Popol Vuh,
Rapeman,
The Evens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sandy B,
CMW,
Das Ding,
Wire,
Stiv Bators,
Tim Buckley,
Big Daddy Kane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tommy Roe,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric Dolphy,
D'Angelo,
The Count Five,
Aloha Tigers,
The Durutti Column,
The Doobie Brothers,
DJ Sneak,
Marcia Griffiths,
Parry Music,
Max Romeo,
Fear,
Aswad,
Ronan,
Maleditus Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tubeway Army,
Bronski Beat,
Bill Near,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Invisible,
Spandau Ballet,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dead Boys,
Pierre Henry,
The Index,
Mary Jane Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.