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 Guatemala and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Morten Harket to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Ice-T,
Hoover,
Country Teasers,
John Cale,
Franke,
The Gun Club,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brothers Johnson,
Peter & Gordon,
The Vogues,
F. McDonald,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deadbeat,
Iggy Pop,
The Red Krayola,
Harry Pussy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Duran Duran,
Bronski Beat,
Barbara Tucker,
Rapeman,
Ultimate Spinach,
KRS-One,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camouflage,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bush Tetras,
Bill Near,
Janne Schatter,
Lalann,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Laurel Aitken,
Tears for Fears,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Isaac Hayes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
CMW,
The Zeros,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Faust,
Nirvana,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Tomorrow,
Tommy Roe,
Soulsonic Force,
Leonard Cohen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minutemen,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
Soft Machine,
Roxy Music,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dennis Brown,
the Sonics,
Sandy B,
Radio Birdman,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.