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 Kenya and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Nirvana to the grunge 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Doors,
Scratch Acid,
Skriet,
Sound Behaviour,
Flash Fearless,
Oblivians,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Byrd,
Rekid,
Cal Tjader,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fat Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Slick Rick,
The United States of America,
Pierre Henry,
Henry Cow,
Bluetip,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric Dolphy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bad Manners,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Robert Wyatt,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dave Clark Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Graham Central Station,
The Young Rascals,
The Dead C,
Funkadelic,
Sex Pistols,
Adolescents,
Joyce Sims,
Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stetsasonic,
Dennis Brown,
Black Pus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiohead,
Mad Mike,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter & Gordon,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Reed,
the Human League,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Parrish,
Supertramp,
Archie Shepp,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.