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 Uruguay and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Television to the electroclash 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
The Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Almond,
The Gories,
Black Sheep,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Technova,
Sun Ra,
Donny Hathaway,
Y Pants,
Clear Light,
Unwound,
The Smoke,
Yazoo,
Popol Vuh,
Aswad,
Ohio Players,
The Blues Magoos,
Jacques Brel,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joe Finger,
Jeff Mills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lyres,
The Standells,
The Music Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Bananas,
Brothers Johnson,
Sparks,
Harmonia,
Gichy Dan,
Dennis Brown,
Masters at Work,
Gang Green,
Black Flag,
Gang Starr,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Von Mondo,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ice-T,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry's Kids,
Aloha Tigers,
Can,
The Mojo Men,
Cluster,
Roxette,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sandy B,
John Holt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kenny Larkin,
Wally Richardson,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.