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 Uzbekistan and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Funky Four + One to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Black Pus,
These Immortal Souls,
Terry Callier,
Gang of Four,
Barbara Tucker,
Youth Brigade,
Theoretical Girls,
Franke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Moon,
New York Dolls,
Joy Division,
Make Up,
The Last Poets,
Ronnie Foster,
Freddie Wadling,
Skarface,
The Five Americans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radiohead,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scott Walker,
Arab on Radar,
Ponytail,
Derrick Morgan,
Lungfish,
Mantronix,
Toni Rubio,
Reuben Wilson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Animal Collective,
The Buckinghams,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nas,
The Doors,
The Walker Brothers,
The Dead C,
The Pop Group,
Kevin Saunderson,
Adolescents,
China Crisis,
Gang Green,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Unwound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dirtbombs,
Michelle Simonal,
B.T. Express,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
Don Cherry,
Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Slits,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.