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 United States and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
X-Ray Spex,
The Modern Lovers,
This Heat,
Maurizio,
Sex Pistols,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hardrive,
The Knickerbockers,
Thompson Twins,
Nik Kershaw,
The Names,
DJ Sneak,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suburban Knight,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
World's Most,
These Immortal Souls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alison Limerick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Khruangbin,
Q and Not U,
Henry Cow,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kool Moe Dee,
Man Parrish,
The Skatalites,
Bauhaus,
Warsaw,
Wire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chrome,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Royal Trux,
Thee Headcoats,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bad Manners,
Accadde A,
Peter and Kerry,
Agent Orange,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nico,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mr. Review,
Terry Callier,
The Slits,
OOIOO,
Archie Shepp,
Lower 48,
Fear,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Flag,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Swans,
Half Japanese,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.