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 Luxembourg and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ 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 Anthony Braxton to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
KRS-One,
Frankie Knuckles,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yazoo,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
Hashim,
Dave Gahan,
Anakelly,
Mars,
Technova,
Delta 5,
Cheater Slicks,
the Swans,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Symarip,
Television Personalities,
Severed Heads,
the Sonics,
the Germs,
Whodini,
Barrington Levy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Flamin' Groovies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ohio Players,
Skriet,
LL Cool J,
Cameo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
Cal Tjader,
Sister Nancy,
Agent Orange,
The Divine Comedy,
Piero Umiliani,
DJ Style,
Matthew Halsall,
Jacob Miller,
Roxette,
Make Up,
Donny Hathaway,
John Lydon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Star Department,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pet Shop Boys,
Blossom Toes,
kango's stein massive,
Godley & Creme,
Japan,
The Names,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.