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 Cuba and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 The Dave Clark Five to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Offenders,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
Tom Boy,
Moss Icon,
Theoretical Girls,
Model 500,
10cc,
Todd Rundgren,
Charles Mingus,
The Young Rascals,
Schoolly D,
Roxette,
Minny Pops,
Josef K,
Public Enemy,
Sugar Minott,
Average White Band,
Bush Tetras,
Ten City,
Maurizio,
Symarip,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lindisfarne,
Robert Hood,
the Swans,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Durutti Column,
B.T. Express,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scan 7,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Make Up,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Sonics,
Ohio Players,
John Holt,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick May,
Heaven 17,
Minnie Riperton,
The Smoke,
Lucky Dragons,
The Evens,
Ossler,
Harmonia,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Radiohead,
Gang Starr,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
Television,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Terry,
Black Moon,
Cal Tjader,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DNA,
Jacob Miller,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.