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 Slovenia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
the Fania All-Stars,
UT,
Harry Pussy,
Schoolly D,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Move,
The Invisible,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gichy Dan,
Rosa Yemen,
Kayak,
Shuggie Otis,
Sam Rivers,
Dawn Penn,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nils Olav,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pussy Galore,
Faust,
Amazonics,
The Trojans,
Bluetip,
Jacob Miller,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Residents,
48th St. Collective,
The Remains,
David Bowie,
Con Funk Shun,
The Beau Brummels,
Rapeman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bill Wells,
Kerri Chandler,
Sixth Finger,
X-101,
The Grass Roots,
Spandau Ballet,
Saccharine Trust,
Blossom Toes,
Eric Copeland,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Standells,
Black Sheep,
Siglo XX,
One Last Wish,
Gong,
Lyres,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Green,
10cc,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Drive Like Jehu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.