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 Netherlands and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Grass Roots,
The Stooges,
The Monochrome Set,
Motorama,
Little Man,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Evens,
Hashim,
Thee Headcoats,
Television Personalities,
CMW,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The American Breed,
The Gun Club,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Funky Four + One,
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Bourne,
Scrapy,
Shoche,
Buzzcocks,
The Golliwogs,
Marc Almond,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cybotron,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Index,
Drexciya,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Divine Comedy,
Anakelly,
the Swans,
Rakim,
The Dirtbombs,
Nils Olav,
PIL,
Joe Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
Circle Jerks,
In Retrospect,
Bronski Beat,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Davy DMX,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
UT,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
Joyce Sims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
F. McDonald,
Qualms,
Blossom Toes,
Das Ding,
The Cramps,
June Days,
The Associates,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.