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 Argentina and from Salvador.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marshall Jefferson to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dead Boys,
Altered Images,
Sandy B,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Liliput,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pylon,
Alice Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
John Cale,
Derrick May,
The Saints,
Whodini,
The Grass Roots,
Brass Construction,
Blake Baxter,
Maurizio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Byron Stingily,
Von Mondo,
Peter and Kerry,
Little Man,
Lower 48,
Infiniti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Wells,
Tommy Roe,
Popol Vuh,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hot Snakes,
Camouflage,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra,
Yellowson,
Inner City,
The Happenings,
Rufus Thomas,
Lightning Bolt,
Half Japanese,
The Cowsills,
The Move,
The Seeds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Star Department,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Wyatt,
Minnie Riperton,
Graham Central Station,
Fear,
Rites of Spring,
Essential Logic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Blossom Toes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Martian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Neu!,
The Doobie Brothers,
Japan,
Harry Pussy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.