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 Sudan and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Tom Verlaine 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 The Walker Brothers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Livin' Joy,
The Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Slackers,
Country Teasers,
John Holt,
Echospace,
Fat Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Buzzcocks,
Radiohead,
Kayak,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dave Gahan,
The Beau Brummels,
Pulsallama,
Little Man,
Altered Images,
Connie Case,
EPMD,
the Bar-Kays,
Agent Orange,
The Red Krayola,
Laurel Aitken,
Duran Duran,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scratch Acid,
Minutemen,
Y Pants,
Accadde A,
Yaz,
The Birthday Party,
Henry Cow,
New Age Steppers,
The Wake,
Excepter,
David McCallum,
Blossom Toes,
Brass Construction,
Khruangbin,
Mo-Dettes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sandy B,
Animal Collective,
Bad Manners,
Gang of Four,
Oblivians,
Niagra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
Symarip,
Fad Gadget,
Deadbeat,
Joensuu 1685,
The Toasters,
OOIOO,
Derrick May,
Pantaleimon,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.