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 Seychelles and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water 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?
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
K-Klass,
World's Most,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Martian,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gap Band,
Jacques Brel,
The Fortunes,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Byrd,
Ronnie Foster,
John Foxx,
The Remains,
The Last Poets,
Pantaleimon,
Ohio Players,
Barrington Levy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rakim,
Dead Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Newcleus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fad Gadget,
Tubeway Army,
Hoover,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barry Ungar,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scott Walker,
The Raincoats,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tom Boy,
Amazonics,
Adolescents,
L. Decosne,
Cheater Slicks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oblivians,
EPMD,
The Slackers,
Sight & Sound,
Peter and Kerry,
Don Cherry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yaz,
Colin Newman,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yellowson,
Gang of Four,
The Kinks,
Roy Ayers,
X-102,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eden Ahbez,
Procol Harum,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.