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 Bhutan and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro 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 Vladislav Delay to the rock 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
The Monochrome Set,
Zero Boys,
Lalann,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cure,
the Soft Cell,
Juan Atkins,
June Days,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rakim,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fugs,
Silicon Teens,
Suicide,
Junior Murvin,
Adolescents,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Womack,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Patti Smith,
Dawn Penn,
Buzzcocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Franke,
Moebius,
Dead Boys,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nas,
Pagans,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Green,
The Cowsills,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alison Limerick,
Carl Craig,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deepchord,
Cameo,
Rufus Thomas,
Man Eating Sloth,
New York Dolls,
The Flesh Eaters,
E-Dancer,
Siglo XX,
Spandau Ballet,
Negative Approach,
Camberwell Now,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sugar Minott,
Eurythmics,
Derrick Morgan,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.