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 Papua New Guinea and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Chic 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dual Sessions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moody Blues,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mars,
Suburban Knight,
Half Japanese,
Yusef Lateef,
The Standells,
The Music Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler,
The Happenings,
Mo-Dettes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lower 48,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mantronix,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Velvet Underground,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
Radiohead,
Talk Talk,
Ultravox,
the Slits,
Colin Newman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nico,
Nils Olav,
Jandek,
F. McDonald,
Von Mondo,
Piero Umiliani,
Liliput,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Al Stewart,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Near,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aloha Tigers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Archie Shepp,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David McCallum,
Animal Collective,
The Durutti Column,
Erasure,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gichy Dan,
The J.B.'s,
Joey Negro,
Banda Bassotti,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joe Finger,
Scrapy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Delta 5,
E-Dancer,
Eric Copeland,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.