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 Bangladesh and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Prince Buster to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers,
Heaven 17,
Shuggie Otis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Blackbyrds,
Neil Young,
Michelle Simonal,
Newcleus,
The Red Krayola,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Youth Brigade,
The Buckinghams,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Los Fastidios,
The Angels of Light,
Yellowson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drexciya,
Donald Byrd,
Frankie Knuckles,
Monolake,
EPMD,
Vladislav Delay,
Brick,
Tom Boy,
PIL,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dave Gahan,
kango's stein massive,
The Real Kids,
Amon Düül II,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Inner City,
the Soft Cell,
World's Most,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dirtbombs,
Motorama,
Yusef Lateef,
The Human League,
Ken Boothe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Junior Murvin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
a-ha,
Y Pants,
Panda Bear,
Gang of Four,
Boz Scaggs,
Groovy Waters,
Skarface,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.