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 Serbia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kings Of Tomorrow 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Letta Mbulu,
Rod Modell,
Roger Hodgson,
Lungfish,
The Standells,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brand Nubian,
Fatback Band,
Depeche Mode,
The Busters,
a-ha,
The Birthday Party,
The Kinks,
Procol Harum,
The Human League,
Drexciya,
The Gap Band,
Dead Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Boogie Down Productions,
David Axelrod,
The Gories,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Unrelated Segments,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Rundgren,
Traffic Nightmare,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Can,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jandek,
Bauhaus,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Finger,
Country Teasers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harpers Bizarre,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crash Course in Science,
Rapeman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gladiators,
Fear,
A Certain Ratio,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Blancmange,
Thompson Twins,
The Offenders,
The Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Crooked Eye,
The Martian,
The Victims,
Rites of Spring,
Hoover,
Harmonia,
Rakim,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.