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 Taiwan and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Mars to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Radio Birdman,
Talk Talk,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
Donny Hathaway,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Procol Harum,
The Moody Blues,
Wings,
Heaven 17,
Dennis Brown,
Circle Jerks,
Barrington Levy,
Black Sheep,
Marmalade,
Rites of Spring,
Black Moon,
The Slits,
Outsiders,
Agitation Free,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ice-T,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Das Ding,
The Knickerbockers,
Ossler,
Parry Music,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kurtis Blow,
Albert Ayler,
Mantronix,
Wasted Youth,
The Dead C,
The Saints,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cal Tjader,
The Martian,
New York Dolls,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang of Four,
Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Deakin,
Camberwell Now,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Golliwogs,
Lower 48,
Lebanon Hanover,
This Heat,
The Black Dice,
Sex Pistols,
Girls At Our Best!,
PIL,
Magma,
Desert Stars,
Liliput,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.