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 Azerbaijan and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 The Zeros to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Oblivians,
The Young Rascals,
Inner City,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
Barbara Tucker,
Alton Ellis,
Q65,
LL Cool J,
the Fania All-Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
KRS-One,
Tubeway Army,
The Detroit Cobras,
Laurel Aitken,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sight & Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed,
MDC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Faraquet,
Andrew Hill,
The Standells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young,
John Foxx,
Fad Gadget,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
Barry Ungar,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ossler,
Byron Stingily,
Hasil Adkins,
Au Pairs,
Lalann,
Scion,
Television,
Prince Buster,
Boz Scaggs,
Pylon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Trumans Water,
Hardrive,
Fugazi,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joe Smooth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fort Wilson Riot,
CMW,
Dark Day,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minny Pops,
the Bar-Kays,
Gichy Dan,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.