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 Djibouti and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 kango's stein massive to the techno 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Quantec,
Technova,
Lyres,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Coltrane,
Young Marble Giants,
Drive Like Jehu,
David Axelrod,
Rekid,
Bobby Womack,
World's Most,
The United States of America,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moebius,
Cecil Taylor,
Shuggie Otis,
Minny Pops,
The Pop Group,
Agent Orange,
Fad Gadget,
Average White Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Freddie Wadling,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
R.M.O.,
Simply Red,
Bizarre Inc.,
Andrew Hill,
The Slits,
Neu!,
Barbara Tucker,
Albert Ayler,
Rufus Thomas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Spandau Ballet,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
The Raincoats,
The Black Dice,
Qualms,
Spoonie Gee,
The Shadows of Knight,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minnie Riperton,
Bill Wells,
The Last Poets,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stereo Dub,
Peter & Gordon,
New York Dolls,
Inner City,
Radiopuhelimet,
Excepter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Robert Hood,
Tears for Fears,
Parry Music,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.