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 Niger and from New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Grauzone to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Index,
Ken Boothe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Steve Hackett,
Aaron Thompson,
Max Romeo,
Absolute Body Control,
The Golliwogs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Smiths,
These Immortal Souls,
X-101,
Tears for Fears,
Spandau Ballet,
The Neon Judgement,
Porter Ricks,
ABBA,
Warsaw,
Gang Starr,
The Pop Group,
Crooked Eye,
Iggy Pop,
John Cale,
Desert Stars,
Smog,
Boredoms,
Rites of Spring,
The Victims,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
Parry Music,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Q65,
Interpol,
Sun City Girls,
Mandrill,
Visage,
Terrestrial Tones,
L. Decosne,
Cybotron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Accadde A,
Pantaleimon,
Fat Boys,
Juan Atkins,
The Doors,
Q and Not U,
LL Cool J,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Kinks,
The Seeds,
The Fuzztones,
Donny Hathaway,
Jawbox,
Soulsonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
One Last Wish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.