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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Japan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tears for Fears,
Black Pus,
Quando Quango,
Public Image Ltd.,
Grey Daturas,
Brothers Johnson,
The Vogues,
The Neon Judgement,
Henry Cow,
Banda Bassotti,
Blossom Toes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Leonard Cohen,
In Retrospect,
Barrington Levy,
Main Source,
Lower 48,
DJ Sneak,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
Kerri Chandler,
Masters at Work,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barbara Tucker,
Derrick May,
Panda Bear,
Accadde A,
Yaz,
Pantytec,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eve St. Jones,
Piero Umiliani,
Vainqueur,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Grass Roots,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ossler,
Scrapy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Germs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Audionom,
Kayak,
Joy Division,
Zapp,
The Standells,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aural Exciters,
Sparks,
H. Thieme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arab on Radar,
Jacques Brel,
Sixth Finger,
the Bar-Kays,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.