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 Vanuatu and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Young Marble Giants to the electroclash 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Metal Thangz,
Wings,
Todd Terry,
Camouflage,
Funkadelic,
Sonic Youth,
Malaria!,
cv313,
Ohio Players,
Lalann,
Maleditus Sound,
Oblivians,
The Count Five,
Tears for Fears,
Barrington Levy,
Bill Wells,
Mantronix,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rakim,
Groovy Waters,
Average White Band,
Pole,
Harmonia,
Monolake,
The J.B.'s,
Liliput,
Marine Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharoah Sanders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
The Walker Brothers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
The Moleskins,
John Holt,
Danielle Patucci,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aural Exciters,
The Standells,
Jeff Mills,
Banda Bassotti,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barbara Tucker,
Glenn Branca,
Andrew Hill,
Derrick May,
The Slits,
The Barracudas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Traffic Nightmare,
UT,
Q and Not U,
Black Bananas,
Franke,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.