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 Ireland and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang On A Can to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Fat Boys,
Hashim,
Bob Dylan,
The Victims,
The Toasters,
The Residents,
the Germs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minor Threat,
A Certain Ratio,
Brothers Johnson,
Scan 7,
Man Eating Sloth,
Niagra,
Eric B and Rakim,
K-Klass,
Mad Mike,
Jawbox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maurizio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jerry's Kids,
Make Up,
The Star Department,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Von Mondo,
Technova,
Wings,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Trojans,
The Human League,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy Collins,
Vladislav Delay,
Mission of Burma,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Second Layer,
FM Einheit,
Joey Negro,
Eli Mardock,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Womack,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Siglo XX,
Newcleus,
The Martian,
X-Ray Spex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tubeway Army,
The Doors,
Zapp,
The American Breed,
Kayak,
Lakeside,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.