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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Lalann,
Popol Vuh,
Harmonia,
Black Pus,
Panda Bear,
The Moody Blues,
The Blues Magoos,
Electric Prunes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scion,
Siglo XX,
Frankie Knuckles,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Darondo,
The Buckinghams,
The Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Subhumans,
Section 25,
Matthew Bourne,
Angry Samoans,
Thompson Twins,
Erykah Badu,
The Residents,
Lucky Dragons,
The Last Poets,
Bill Wells,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Grass Roots,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Unrelated Segments,
Ornette Coleman,
Bang On A Can,
Buzzcocks,
Suburban Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scientists,
Rhythm & Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Country Teasers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alice Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Sight & Sound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
DJ Sneak,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blossom Toes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.