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 Swaziland and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Japan 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Mars,
The Count Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Reed,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Association,
The Fortunes,
Silicon Teens,
Sun City Girls,
Clear Light,
Alice Coltrane,
The Associates,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Au Pairs,
Dennis Brown,
David McCallum,
Country Teasers,
The Vogues,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Womack,
The Gap Band,
Gichy Dan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smoke,
Joyce Sims,
Masters at Work,
Faraquet,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Monochrome Set,
Gang Starr,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
a-ha,
Gong,
Brass Construction,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Man Parrish,
Arcadia,
Magma,
Flash Fearless,
Lalann,
Gastr Del Sol,
Davy DMX,
One Last Wish,
Cybotron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sex Pistols,
The Electric Prunes,
Todd Rundgren,
Rapeman,
The Angels of Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.