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 Beijing.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 Brothers Johnson to the rap 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eli Mardock,
Fatback Band,
Dave Gahan,
The Fuzztones,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang of Four,
The J.B.'s,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Warsaw,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Whodini,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sonic Youth,
Thompson Twins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wally Richardson,
Inner City,
Flipper,
Rotary Connection,
Trumans Water,
Wings,
The Blackbyrds,
Godley & Creme,
The Velvet Underground,
The Techniques,
The United States of America,
DJ Style,
Barbara Tucker,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Happenings,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lakeside,
La Düsseldorf,
The American Breed,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Lydon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nico,
Malaria!,
The Doors,
Tim Buckley,
Average White Band,
FM Einheit,
In Retrospect,
Joe Smooth,
Leonard Cohen,
Tubeway Army,
Mary Jane Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cure,
Nik Kershaw,
Sam Rivers,
the Swans,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.