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 Spain and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 Johnny Osbourne to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Pere Ubu,
L. Decosne,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABBA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television,
The Offenders,
Whodini,
Harry Pussy,
Rufus Thomas,
Letta Mbulu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faust,
Crime,
Rapeman,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Mummies,
The Buckinghams,
The Fuzztones,
Tres Demented,
Lower 48,
AZ,
Black Moon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Panda Bear,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young,
Delta 5,
Grey Daturas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jawbox,
Essential Logic,
Scion,
Robert Hood,
Livin' Joy,
Supertramp,
Ronan,
Guru Guru,
E-Dancer,
Qualms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Christie,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Colin Newman,
Banda Bassotti,
Nick Fraelich,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fluxion,
the Bar-Kays,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Chrome,
Jerry's Kids,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gladiators,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Big Daddy Kane,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.