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 Bangladesh and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Busters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Derrick May,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vainqueur,
Moss Icon,
Swans,
Parry Music,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Joe Finger,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grauzone,
Alison Limerick,
The Last Poets,
Ludus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Residents,
Marcia Griffiths,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
Pussy Galore,
Bang On A Can,
Mad Mike,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Underground Resistance,
Wolf Eyes,
The J.B.'s,
A Flock of Seagulls,
JFA,
Urselle,
New York Dolls,
Das Ding,
Chrome,
Radiohead,
Pole,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Moby Grape,
Roy Ayers,
Surgeon,
Mo-Dettes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Victims,
The Monochrome Set,
Hoover,
Warren Ellis,
Eddi Front,
Bob Dylan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
The Happenings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Sheep,
Lightning Bolt,
Alphaville,
The Selecter,
Bad Manners,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Standells,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.