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 Australia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cal Tjader to the disco 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cure,
Grey Daturas,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Average White Band,
The Residents,
The Gun Club,
Depeche Mode,
Big Daddy Kane,
Babytalk,
Gregory Isaacs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Index,
Slave,
The Mummies,
Bootsy Collins,
Danielle Patucci,
The Pretty Things,
Lower 48,
Section 25,
Gang Gang Dance,
Albert Ayler,
Godley & Creme,
Sixth Finger,
X-101,
Camberwell Now,
Outsiders,
Cluster,
Moss Icon,
Soft Machine,
Hardrive,
Erasure,
Toni Rubio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sun City Girls,
The Five Americans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Rapeman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Youth Brigade,
Scott Walker,
Nico,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Cale,
The Fugs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Minutemen,
Cymande,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agitation Free,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.