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 Armenia and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Count Five,
Kaleidoscope,
Sam Rivers,
Con Funk Shun,
Harry Pussy,
The Sound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Lydon,
Darondo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Absolute Body Control,
Goldenarms,
Loose Ends,
Fela Kuti,
U.S. Maple,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Max Romeo,
Swell Maps,
Pierre Henry,
Deadbeat,
Bill Near,
Todd Rundgren,
The Smiths,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Easy Going,
The Trojans,
Graham Central Station,
Byron Stingily,
Rosa Yemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Metal Thangz,
The Zeros,
Slick Rick,
Black Flag,
Desert Stars,
Ituana,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ice-T,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Porter Ricks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The New Christs,
Nik Kershaw,
Boz Scaggs,
Brand Nubian,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
UT,
Minnie Riperton,
Negative Approach,
Aloha Tigers,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Wyatt,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.