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 Lithuania and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Skriet to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Lungfish,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Moon,
Marine Girls,
Gang of Four,
A Certain Ratio,
The Names,
Don Cherry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hot Snakes,
Soft Cell,
Crash Course in Science,
June of 44,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Monolake,
Ronan,
Echospace,
Youth Brigade,
LL Cool J,
cv313,
Pere Ubu,
Panda Bear,
The Grass Roots,
Blake Baxter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nirvana,
UT,
Ultravox,
Urselle,
Wally Richardson,
Donald Byrd,
Jeru the Damaja,
Slick Rick,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter and Kerry,
Fugazi,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Monks,
Graham Central Station,
The Buckinghams,
Minor Threat,
The Standells,
Morten Harket,
Aaron Thompson,
Pagans,
Laurel Aitken,
Agent Orange,
Eric Dolphy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Charles Mingus,
the Sonics,
the Slits,
Main Source,
Skaos,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flipper,
Stereo Dub,
Howard Jones,
Blancmange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.