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 El Salvador and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Zapp to the rap 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
The Fire Engines,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nick Fraelich,
The Misunderstood,
Fad Gadget,
Steve Hackett,
Stereo Dub,
Neu!,
Derrick Morgan,
Parry Music,
Porter Ricks,
New Order,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun City Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Man Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barry Ungar,
Barrington Levy,
Joy Division,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Mills,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sound,
The Stooges,
Quadrant,
Dual Sessions,
Underground Resistance,
The Cure,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Human League,
Sparks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Funkadelic,
E-Dancer,
The Walker Brothers,
The Busters,
Donny Hathaway,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
Babytalk,
Cecil Taylor,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pere Ubu,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Bananas,
The Moody Blues,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.