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 Vietnam and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 D'Angelo to the rap 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Minutemen,
Yellowson,
Reuben Wilson,
Panda Bear,
Ice-T,
Unrelated Segments,
Tom Boy,
Vladislav Delay,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare,
Alison Limerick,
Reagan Youth,
The Gladiators,
The Techniques,
The Monks,
John Foxx,
Audionom,
The Selecter,
Joe Smooth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Khruangbin,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fuzztones,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Con Funk Shun,
One Last Wish,
Hoover,
Pharoah Sanders,
Q and Not U,
Cheater Slicks,
Mo-Dettes,
Harry Pussy,
Y Pants,
Banda Bassotti,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tropical Tobacco,
Connie Case,
Freddie Wadling,
The Sonics,
The Kinks,
Pagans,
Drexciya,
The Litter,
Glenn Branca,
Graham Central Station,
Max Romeo,
Icehouse,
Minor Threat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Deadbeat,
Bobby Sherman,
Symarip,
Niagra,
The United States of America,
The Mojo Men,
Derrick May,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.