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 Afghanistan and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin 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 Neil Young to the grime 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soul II Soul,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Angry Samoans,
Quadrant,
Bush Tetras,
Boredoms,
DJ Style,
Ronnie Foster,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Evens,
Ossler,
Maurizio,
Von Mondo,
Lungfish,
Soft Machine,
the Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
Dawn Penn,
Symarip,
Liliput,
Unwound,
Derrick May,
Bang On A Can,
Pulsallama,
The Five Americans,
Inner City,
The Fortunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Desert Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
Subhumans,
The Leaves,
Sight & Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brand Nubian,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blake Baxter,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick Morgan,
Harmonia,
The Wake,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Vogues,
Isaac Hayes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
ABC,
Thompson Twins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Tremeloes,
Jeff Mills,
Bill Near,
Eric Copeland,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.