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 Nicaragua and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Q65,
the Germs,
Half Japanese,
Todd Rundgren,
The Angels of Light,
Crash Course in Science,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doors,
Sound Behaviour,
Monolake,
Jacob Miller,
Echospace,
Sex Pistols,
Eurythmics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
10cc,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nils Olav,
Moby Grape,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arthur Verocai,
Wasted Youth,
Glenn Branca,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vladislav Delay,
Aswad,
Smog,
Basic Channel,
The Evens,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Public Enemy,
B.T. Express,
Moss Icon,
Tom Boy,
Visage,
Gang Gang Dance,
MC5,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Star Department,
Ice-T,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Anthony Braxton,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marine Girls,
June Days,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Althea and Donna,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Liliput,
Eddi Front,
Ronan,
Brand Nubian,
Animal Collective,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.