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 Kazakhstan and from Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 Peter & Gordon to the punk 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Litter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Loose Ends,
Arcadia,
The Names,
Nick Fraelich,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Five Americans,
The Pretty Things,
Arthur Verocai,
Dawn Penn,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The J.B.'s,
Carl Craig,
Juan Atkins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
kango's stein massive,
Cybotron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Cell,
the Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Das Ding,
Cecil Taylor,
Junior Murvin,
Young Marble Giants,
Aswad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neu!,
Jacques Brel,
B.T. Express,
Cameo,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mummies,
Althea and Donna,
The Happenings,
The Count Five,
DNA,
The Gap Band,
Mandrill,
The Leaves,
Fela Kuti,
Aural Exciters,
David McCallum,
Mr. Review,
D'Angelo,
Hardrive,
John Foxx,
Quadrant,
Radiopuhelimet,
The American Breed,
MC5,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nirvana,
Todd Terry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Real Kids,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.