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 Kiribati and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 B.T. Express 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba 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 güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Dave Gahan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Severed Heads,
Scan 7,
Qualms,
A Certain Ratio,
Funkadelic,
The Star Department,
David McCallum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neu!,
Fad Gadget,
Tropical Tobacco,
Popol Vuh,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sandy B,
Maurizio,
Jacob Miller,
Jimmy McGriff,
Agitation Free,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chrome,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cowsills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lucky Dragons,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers,
The Gap Band,
Jacques Brel,
The Music Machine,
Subhumans,
Lyres,
48th St. Collective,
Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
Saccharine Trust,
Magazine,
The Last Poets,
Mr. Review,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Amon Düül,
The Trojans,
Model 500,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang of Four,
Intrusion,
Monks,
Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Agent Orange,
the Slits,
This Heat,
Sight & Sound,
Scion,
UT,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arcadia,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.