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 France and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 48th St. Collective to the rap 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Kool Moe Dee,
The J.B.'s,
Lindisfarne,
The Smoke,
Depeche Mode,
Chris Corsano,
Fatback Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Arcadia,
Quando Quango,
Radiopuhelimet,
Supertramp,
Moby Grape,
Minor Threat,
Alton Ellis,
The New Christs,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
Pylon,
Funkadelic,
Livin' Joy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Toni Rubio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
U.S. Maple,
Eric Dolphy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Womack,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Velvet Underground,
Junior Murvin,
a-ha,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Bourne,
Crime,
Morten Harket,
Kerri Chandler,
Mo-Dettes,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smiths,
Con Funk Shun,
Anthony Braxton,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swell Maps,
Dark Day,
The Music Machine,
Model 500,
The Fortunes,
Joensuu 1685,
It's A Beautiful Day,
New Age Steppers,
Negative Approach,
The Monochrome Set,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.