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 Angola and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mandrill to the grunge 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Bluetip,
Chrome,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Main Source,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sister Nancy,
Young Marble Giants,
Interpol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Style,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dawn Penn,
Country Teasers,
The Last Poets,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days,
Monks,
The Mummies,
La Düsseldorf,
The Alarm Clocks,
Warren Ellis,
The Litter,
Vainqueur,
This Heat,
CMW,
Pierre Henry,
Hot Snakes,
Fat Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Hood,
Rosa Yemen,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Parry Music,
ABC,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sam Rivers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Byrd,
Suicide,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aswad,
Albert Ayler,
Marmalade,
Faraquet,
Easy Going,
Mo-Dettes,
Qualms,
Franke,
Mission of Burma,
Patti Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxette,
The Sound,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents 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.