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 Latvia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Letta Mbulu to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magazine,
Roxy Music,
DNA,
Radio Birdman,
Toni Rubio,
Todd Terry,
Thee Headcoats,
Monolake,
The Slits,
The Knickerbockers,
Minny Pops,
Kaleidoscope,
Soft Cell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
Circle Jerks,
The Sound,
Schoolly D,
Soul II Soul,
Livin' Joy,
Organ,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Slackers,
Crime,
Drexciya,
Basic Channel,
ABC,
Soul Sonic Force,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hardrive,
8 Eyed Spy,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cure,
The Doors,
Slave,
The Evens,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Inner City,
Eden Ahbez,
The Monks,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Busters,
Chris & Cosey,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ludus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultravox,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
The Walker Brothers,
PIL,
Monks,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.