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 Lesotho and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ralphi Rosario to the rock 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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Marine Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
New York Dolls,
Yusef Lateef,
The Pop Group,
a-ha,
Ken Boothe,
Accadde A,
Camberwell Now,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Motorama,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mark Hollis,
Television,
Bobby Womack,
The Busters,
Pantytec,
Ohio Players,
Intrusion,
The Fortunes,
Nirvana,
Lyres,
Sister Nancy,
The Smiths,
Public Enemy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jandek,
Buzzcocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fat Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
DJ Style,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jawbox,
Moss Icon,
Suicide,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Victims,
The Grass Roots,
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
The Human League,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Danielle Patucci,
Wasted Youth,
Roxette,
The Young Rascals,
X-102,
Ice-T,
Kenny Larkin,
Al Stewart,
Black Sheep,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Underground Resistance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.