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 Belize and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cybotron to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Carl Craig,
Howard Jones,
Faraquet,
Jeff Mills,
Siglo XX,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eric Dolphy,
Arcadia,
Harry Pussy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Associates,
John Foxx,
Severed Heads,
Bill Near,
The Dirtbombs,
John Cale,
Kenny Larkin,
Popol Vuh,
Ultra Naté,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Circle Jerks,
Eden Ahbez,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Franke,
The Trojans,
Dual Sessions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare,
Sam Rivers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rod Modell,
MDC,
Ken Boothe,
The Slackers,
The Names,
The Monks,
Reagan Youth,
Sex Pistols,
John Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Rekid,
Clear Light,
Flipper,
The Fall,
Skriet,
Excepter,
The Buckinghams,
Aswad,
Matthew Halsall,
Vladislav Delay,
Hoover,
Aloha Tigers,
Masters at Work,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Al Stewart,
Pet Shop Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.