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 Kazakhstan and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Grandmaster Flash to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Wings,
Con Funk Shun,
The Beau Brummels,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Steve Hackett,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
The Last Poets,
Flash Fearless,
Jacob Miller,
The Dirtbombs,
Underground Resistance,
Minutemen,
Visage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Red Krayola,
The Trojans,
Fatback Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
Joe Smooth,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fuzztones,
Severed Heads,
Inner City,
Grey Daturas,
Sarah Menescal,
Deakin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moleskins,
Barbara Tucker,
Kenny Larkin,
Camouflage,
Radio Birdman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Howard Jones,
Amazonics,
Neu!,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Sneak,
Barrington Levy,
Ice-T,
The Electric Prunes,
Erasure,
Grauzone,
Tomorrow,
Soul Sonic Force,
Panda Bear,
Kerrie Biddell,
Anakelly,
Tommy Roe,
Bob Dylan,
Trumans Water,
Pagans,
Roger Hodgson,
Minnie Riperton,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sex Pistols,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.