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 Germany and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Simply Red to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Blackbyrds,
Mantronix,
Johnny Clarke,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare,
Negative Approach,
Scratch Acid,
The Mummies,
The Alarm Clocks,
Qualms,
Arcadia,
The Fall,
Brothers Johnson,
the Germs,
Subhumans,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
Ultra Naté,
Fluxion,
Pere Ubu,
Lucky Dragons,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Guru Guru,
The Invisible,
The Red Krayola,
Spandau Ballet,
Con Funk Shun,
Cal Tjader,
The Slackers,
Joyce Sims,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pantaleimon,
Eurythmics,
Scion,
Lungfish,
Gang Starr,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delta 5,
Massinfluence,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aloha Tigers,
Smog,
Thompson Twins,
Barbara Tucker,
Youth Brigade,
The Stooges,
Junior Murvin,
F. McDonald,
The Smoke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jacob Miller,
The Dead C,
Robert Wyatt,
Harry Pussy,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.