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 Mauritius and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
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 mellotron 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 Country Teasers to the dance 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Harry Pussy,
Big Daddy Kane,
World's Most,
Circle Jerks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Khruangbin,
Ituana,
Wally Richardson,
Joe Finger,
Quadrant,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heaven 17,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Residents,
Prince Buster,
Rufus Thomas,
The Pretty Things,
Slave,
H. Thieme,
The Angels of Light,
The Barracudas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Soft Cell,
The Motions,
Rekid,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young,
Brothers Johnson,
The Birthday Party,
48th St. Collective,
The Cowsills,
Theoretical Girls,
Maurizio,
Jeff Lynne,
E-Dancer,
Magma,
Fear,
ABC,
Trumans Water,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Green,
Harmonia,
Kas Product,
The Velvet Underground,
Delta 5,
Danielle Patucci,
James White and The Blacks,
Aswad,
The Modern Lovers,
Mars,
Kayak,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Cymande,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül II,
Supertramp,
Grey Daturas,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.