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 Libya and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Ten City to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Moebius,
Los Fastidios,
Eric Copeland,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Wyatt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Accadde A,
Black Pus,
Qualms,
10cc,
Jerry's Kids,
The Real Kids,
Lalann,
Todd Rundgren,
Fela Kuti,
Siglo XX,
Television Personalities,
Brass Construction,
Man Parrish,
Nas,
This Heat,
Andrew Hill,
Bill Wells,
Nick Fraelich,
Piero Umiliani,
Roger Hodgson,
Funkadelic,
Deakin,
Scott Walker,
L. Decosne,
Essential Logic,
Smog,
Clear Light,
Danielle Patucci,
Deepchord,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gichy Dan,
The Vogues,
T. Rex,
John Foxx,
Fatback Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Flag,
Moby Grape,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cameo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Intrusion,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boredoms,
The Flesh Eaters,
Darondo,
Crime,
Wally Richardson,
David McCallum,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Connie Case,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.