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 Jamaica and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
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 spring reverb 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 D'Angelo to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Motorama,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare,
Carl Craig,
Pole,
Todd Terry,
Magazine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bauhaus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Stetsasonic,
John Coltrane,
Scan 7,
Schoolly D,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Germs,
Cecil Taylor,
The Durutti Column,
DNA,
Suicide,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nas,
Ultra Naté,
Deadbeat,
Brass Construction,
Harry Pussy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Anthony Braxton,
The Names,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun City Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vainqueur,
The Fortunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slits,
Amon Düül,
Goldenarms,
China Crisis,
The Neon Judgement,
The Saints,
Radio Birdman,
Zapp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Traffic Nightmare,
Danielle Patucci,
Adolescents,
Marine Girls,
The Motions,
Soul Sonic Force,
Shuggie Otis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mummies,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.