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 Belarus and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Nile Rodgers 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 L. Decosne to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Anthony Braxton,
Liliput,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Tremeloes,
Terry Callier,
The Walker Brothers,
Audionom,
The Five Americans,
Morten Harket,
The Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Dark Day,
Pussy Galore,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang Green,
Pantytec,
The Doors,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ossler,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Martian,
Bad Manners,
the Normal,
Donald Byrd,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cramps,
Patti Smith,
The Last Poets,
The Offenders,
Rites of Spring,
Derrick Morgan,
The Blues Magoos,
Smog,
The Star Department,
Howard Jones,
Sandy B,
Wings,
Von Mondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Davy DMX,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric Copeland,
The Black Dice,
Radio Birdman,
Jandek,
Tim Buckley,
Camouflage,
Average White Band,
Main Source,
Funky Four + One,
Harmonia,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fluxion,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.