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 Belgium and from Taipei.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Zapp to the crunk 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sex Pistols,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terry Callier,
Quantec,
Joe Finger,
Moby Grape,
The Gories,
Derrick May,
Tears for Fears,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scientists,
Gang Green,
MDC,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Spoonie Gee,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Lydon,
Morten Harket,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Almond,
The Black Dice,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
OOIOO,
The Dirtbombs,
Mantronix,
Kerri Chandler,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
Fat Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Selecter,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Blossom Toes,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cramps,
Suburban Knight,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Evens,
Con Funk Shun,
Rites of Spring,
Minor Threat,
Basic Channel,
Graham Central Station,
Wally Richardson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Girls At Our Best!,
Anthony Braxton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.