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 Tuvalu and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grime 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
LL Cool J,
The Fortunes,
Fela Kuti,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quando Quango,
Deepchord,
Young Marble Giants,
Los Fastidios,
Alton Ellis,
Mr. Review,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun City Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
KRS-One,
Black Pus,
Television,
Archie Shepp,
Boredoms,
Lower 48,
Donny Hathaway,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drexciya,
Outsiders,
The Leaves,
Chrome,
Bronski Beat,
Cluster,
Neil Young,
Bill Near,
Infiniti,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scan 7,
The New Christs,
Nico,
Soft Machine,
Echospace,
Robert Görl,
T. Rex,
The Sonics,
Public Enemy,
Lalann,
Nirvana,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Isaac Hayes,
Pylon,
the Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare,
Anthony Braxton,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Smooth,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fall,
Section 25,
Reagan Youth,
Metal Thangz,
Barry Ungar,
Stiv Bators,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.