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 Jamaica and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 UT to the disco 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Robert Wyatt,
Drive Like Jehu,
AZ,
Bill Near,
Rhythm & Sound,
David Axelrod,
Susan Cadogan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
UT,
The Saints,
The Blackbyrds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tom Boy,
Oneida,
Shoche,
Ten City,
Pole,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ornette Coleman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Swans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nick Fraelich,
Morten Harket,
Y Pants,
Bronski Beat,
Josef K,
The Doors,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marmalade,
The Gun Club,
Organ,
Make Up,
The Gap Band,
Pere Ubu,
Country Teasers,
New Order,
Gang of Four,
Mr. Review,
Saccharine Trust,
Ronnie Foster,
The Young Rascals,
The Dirtbombs,
Pantaleimon,
Michelle Simonal,
The Walker Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Amon Düül,
Peter & Gordon,
Accadde A,
Can,
Negative Approach,
Black Pus,
Niagra,
Roxette,
Audionom,
Deadbeat,
The Count Five,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.