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 Finland and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar 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 Eurythmics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Gang Starr,
Junior Murvin,
Pierre Henry,
Ice-T,
L. Decosne,
Oblivians,
MC5,
Liliput,
Sparks,
Freddie Wadling,
Barry Ungar,
The Leaves,
Sex Pistols,
Amazonics,
Roxy Music,
Fear,
Deepchord,
Connie Case,
Marine Girls,
Soft Machine,
Bluetip,
AZ,
Pantytec,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eve St. Jones,
Yaz,
Scion,
The Vogues,
Lou Reed,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mummies,
Bobby Byrd,
Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
Can,
Babytalk,
MDC,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crash Course in Science,
Fluxion,
The Raincoats,
Fugazi,
Unrelated Segments,
R.M.O.,
Faraquet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fuzztones,
Slick Rick,
Desert Stars,
Schoolly D,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nik Kershaw,
FM Einheit,
Radiohead,
Sun City Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Patti Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.