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 Azerbaijan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 The Blues Magoos to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Enemy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kurtis Blow,
Rekid,
The Index,
Susan Cadogan,
Surgeon,
Bad Manners,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kerri Chandler,
Sparks,
The Vogues,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Offenders,
Technova,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cluster,
Little Man,
Eddi Front,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeff Lynne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Warsaw,
Letta Mbulu,
Tres Demented,
Deepchord,
Sugar Minott,
The Techniques,
Main Source,
H. Thieme,
Lungfish,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mandrill,
Banda Bassotti,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Womack,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
L. Decosne,
Fat Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
The Victims,
Country Teasers,
Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Sight & Sound,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moss Icon,
the Association,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.