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 Antigua and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator 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 Moss Icon to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy 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?
CMW,
New Age Steppers,
Minor Threat,
Pere Ubu,
Wally Richardson,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
The Electric Prunes,
Deakin,
The Red Krayola,
Khruangbin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bush Tetras,
The Residents,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Peter and Kerry,
Spandau Ballet,
The Names,
Harpers Bizarre,
One Last Wish,
John Coltrane,
Janne Schatter,
Brothers Johnson,
Pylon,
Symarip,
Patti Smith,
Radio Birdman,
Banda Bassotti,
Byron Stingily,
Althea and Donna,
Minnie Riperton,
Eli Mardock,
Joe Smooth,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott Heron,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pussy Galore,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
MDC,
The Shadows of Knight,
Donny Hathaway,
Dennis Brown,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bad Manners,
Electric Light Orchestra,
China Crisis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Das Ding,
Kurtis Blow,
Yellowson,
The Saints,
Pagans,
The Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Niagra,
The Fugs,
Camberwell Now,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.