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 Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Darondo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
Jeff Lynne,
Excepter,
Liliput,
Agent Orange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Raincoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tim Buckley,
Don Cherry,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Invisible,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Inner City,
T. Rex,
Vladislav Delay,
Wally Richardson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Pus,
Jesper Dahlback,
Oblivians,
Jacques Brel,
Circle Jerks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gladiators,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cecil Taylor,
Nirvana,
DJ Style,
The United States of America,
Livin' Joy,
Fatback Band,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
Fat Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Birthday Party,
Minor Threat,
U.S. Maple,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arcadia,
The Remains,
Tres Demented,
The Blackbyrds,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
Zapp,
Godley & Creme,
Connie Case,
KRS-One,
The Fuzztones,
the Germs,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.