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 Uruguay and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cybotron to the dance 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultra Naté,
Boogie Down Productions,
Surgeon,
Jacques Brel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minny Pops,
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mo-Dettes,
Easy Going,
Amon Düül II,
Marine Girls,
Section 25,
Radio Birdman,
Public Enemy,
Sound Behaviour,
Urselle,
Lou Reed,
Josef K,
The Five Americans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-102,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
David Axelrod,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
T. Rex,
Goldenarms,
Sight & Sound,
Scott Walker,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
Anthony Braxton,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gap Band,
Bang On A Can,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cheater Slicks,
Charles Mingus,
Mandrill,
Metal Thangz,
New Age Steppers,
The Martian,
The Victims,
Zero Boys,
Lou Christie,
Oblivians,
Shoche,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantytec,
Absolute Body Control,
The Detroit Cobras,
Babytalk,
Fear,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.