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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer 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 Gichy Dan to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Matthew Bourne,
Livin' Joy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joy Division,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wings,
One Last Wish,
Scrapy,
Basic Channel,
The Gun Club,
The Monks,
Dual Sessions,
Black Pus,
Grauzone,
Kas Product,
Hoover,
Isaac Hayes,
Television Personalities,
Pole,
David McCallum,
Hardrive,
The Red Krayola,
Adolescents,
a-ha,
Motorama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
B.T. Express,
Zero Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Golliwogs,
The Gladiators,
Crooked Eye,
Country Joe & The Fish,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Susan Cadogan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arab on Radar,
Harry Pussy,
Iggy Pop,
Black Sheep,
Donny Hathaway,
L. Decosne,
The Martian,
Bobby Sherman,
The Zeros,
Jeff Mills,
The Walker Brothers,
X-102,
D'Angelo,
The Young Rascals,
Eve St. Jones,
Los Fastidios,
Icehouse,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Babytalk,
Organ,
Bluetip,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.