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 Indonesia and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 This Heat to the funk 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eddi Front,
Kenny Larkin,
The Happenings,
Bush Tetras,
Rakim,
Erasure,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang On A Can,
Ice-T,
One Last Wish,
The Remains,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Beau Brummels,
David McCallum,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pretty Things,
Das Ding,
Roxy Music,
AZ,
Aloha Tigers,
Procol Harum,
Dawn Penn,
Slave,
Sonic Youth,
Television,
X-102,
Tom Boy,
Masters at Work,
Desert Stars,
CMW,
Fugazi,
Symarip,
Sister Nancy,
PIL,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Metal Thangz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Man Parrish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Zapp,
The Leaves,
Trumans Water,
Colin Newman,
Wally Richardson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Connie Case,
Sun City Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Slits,
Ultra Naté,
The Alarm Clocks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Freddie Wadling,
Tres Demented,
The Searchers,
Gong,
Popol Vuh,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.