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 El Salvador and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Porter Ricks to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rufus Thomas,
Aural Exciters,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
Colin Newman,
Connie Case,
Radiohead,
Rotary Connection,
Soul II Soul,
The Neon Judgement,
The Busters,
The Buckinghams,
Crime,
Mars,
The Five Americans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amazonics,
Stetsasonic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pierre Henry,
Donny Hathaway,
June of 44,
U.S. Maple,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bush Tetras,
Das Ding,
Gang Starr,
Warsaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash,
Easy Going,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Delta 5,
Arcadia,
Donald Byrd,
Khruangbin,
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
The Smiths,
Lou Christie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anthony Braxton,
the Association,
D'Angelo,
Ornette Coleman,
Zapp,
Television,
Little Man,
The Martian,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.