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 France and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wally Richardson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Lakeside,
John Cale,
Little Man,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wasted Youth,
Unrelated Segments,
Cameo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
DJ Sneak,
Q and Not U,
The New Christs,
The Mummies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare,
Icehouse,
Jawbox,
the Soft Cell,
Alphaville,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
Y Pants,
John Holt,
Fela Kuti,
F. McDonald,
Schoolly D,
Infiniti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harmonia,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yusef Lateef,
Roger Hodgson,
Index,
Clear Light,
Lalann,
Banda Bassotti,
Excepter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flipper,
Skaos,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun Ra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Max Romeo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bauhaus,
Mark Hollis,
Yellowson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dead Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Lynne,
Joensuu 1685,
Wolf Eyes,
Oblivians,
It's A Beautiful Day,
New Order,
Donald Byrd,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.