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 Peru and from Woodstock.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
New Age Steppers,
Rekid,
Mandrill,
Eve St. Jones,
X-102,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Angry Samoans,
The Divine Comedy,
The Stooges,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Make Up,
Brick,
The Barracudas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Drive Like Jehu,
Janne Schatter,
Dave Gahan,
Japan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Remains,
Spandau Ballet,
Barrington Levy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
CMW,
Essential Logic,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Associates,
Sam Rivers,
Banda Bassotti,
David Axelrod,
Hoover,
Davy DMX,
The Gun Club,
Electric Prunes,
Marmalade,
Rosa Yemen,
Silicon Teens,
New Order,
Radiohead,
Funkadelic,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dirtbombs,
Joy Division,
The Fugs,
The Motions,
Freddie Wadling,
Alton Ellis,
Massinfluence,
David McCallum,
Barry Ungar,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Foxx,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Wake,
Half Japanese,
Wings,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.