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 Armenia and from London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Livin' Joy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Slick Rick,
The Monochrome Set,
10cc,
Black Bananas,
Saccharine Trust,
Camouflage,
The Divine Comedy,
John Foxx,
Jerry's Kids,
ABBA,
Barry Ungar,
Excepter,
Quantec,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
Heaven 17,
Fugazi,
Das Ding,
Eric Copeland,
June of 44,
Little Man,
Soft Machine,
DNA,
Spandau Ballet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
Symarip,
The Sound,
Ossler,
D'Angelo,
Altered Images,
Fad Gadget,
Arcadia,
Minor Threat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Womack,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marvin Gaye,
The Skatalites,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Country Teasers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fluxion,
Gang Green,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
James White and The Blacks,
Supertramp,
Joe Smooth,
Joey Negro,
Quadrant,
Peter & Gordon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brothers Johnson,
Kerri Chandler,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.