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 Belgium and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
ABBA,
Yaz,
kango's stein massive,
The J.B.'s,
Amon Düül,
CMW,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rod Modell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed,
Bauhaus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Toni Rubio,
a-ha,
The Standells,
The Saints,
Man Parrish,
Echospace,
Second Layer,
Alphaville,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flipper,
Robert Hood,
Jesper Dahlback,
E-Dancer,
Slave,
The Shadows of Knight,
Angry Samoans,
Supertramp,
Severed Heads,
The Cramps,
Scion,
Metal Thangz,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Mills,
Anakelly,
Silicon Teens,
Gang Green,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fuzztones,
Khruangbin,
The Remains,
Josef K,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Erasure,
The Offenders,
UT,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dual Sessions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rufus Thomas,
Althea and Donna,
Guru Guru,
Public Enemy,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.