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 Panama and from Columbus.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 The United States of America to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Invisible,
Swans,
Schoolly D,
The Cowsills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Lydon,
Public Image Ltd.,
DNA,
Ice-T,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gong,
The Last Poets,
Marine Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pantaleimon,
The Leaves,
Television Personalities,
Quando Quango,
Lightning Bolt,
Ohio Players,
Michelle Simonal,
Sun Ra,
Magazine,
Sparks,
Tres Demented,
Suburban Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
The Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aswad,
Davy DMX,
Letta Mbulu,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stereo Dub,
Supertramp,
Sugar Minott,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Japan,
The Fire Engines,
Jeff Mills,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Sherman,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vladislav Delay,
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlback,
World's Most,
ABBA,
8 Eyed Spy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blancmange,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Danielle Patucci,
Robert Wyatt,
Deepchord,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.