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 Rwanda and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Crooked Eye to the techno 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
The Victims,
Swans,
Boredoms,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultravox,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moebius,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Parry Music,
Gang Starr,
Todd Terry,
Radiohead,
Neil Young,
Rotary Connection,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Basic Channel,
Steve Hackett,
Minnie Riperton,
the Human League,
AZ,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Donald Byrd,
Scrapy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harry Pussy,
Thee Headcoats,
Radio Birdman,
the Association,
Minny Pops,
The Beau Brummels,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nirvana,
Black Pus,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Happenings,
Brand Nubian,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
The Modern Lovers,
Easy Going,
Crooked Eye,
The Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Carl Craig,
The Evens,
Dennis Brown,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tropical Tobacco,
Darondo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cybotron,
Joey Negro,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.