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 Philippines and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Altered Images to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Moby Grape,
Soft Cell,
Brothers Johnson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
X-101,
Aaron Thompson,
Panda Bear,
Pylon,
Agitation Free,
Aswad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mo-Dettes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Whodini,
The Associates,
Judy Mowatt,
New Age Steppers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yazoo,
Joe Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cowsills,
Scientists,
Terrestrial Tones,
Althea and Donna,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sixth Finger,
Negative Approach,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispian St. Peters,
PIL,
The Victims,
The Pop Group,
Scott Walker,
F. McDonald,
Neu!,
Jerry's Kids,
Ituana,
Fatback Band,
Jandek,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultravox,
the Association,
The Fall,
Blossom Toes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Malaria!,
Crash Course in Science,
The Alarm Clocks,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.