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 Equatorial Guinea and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Brass Construction to the disco 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Pylon,
Animal Collective,
Terry Callier,
Bauhaus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Carl Craig,
Franke,
The Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
The Red Krayola,
Bob Dylan,
Visage,
The Cure,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Magazine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Popol Vuh,
The Names,
Blake Baxter,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slackers,
Pole,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soul II Soul,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lyres,
Scientists,
Yaz,
The Victims,
Brass Construction,
Tears for Fears,
Anakelly,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faust,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Agent Orange,
Yusef Lateef,
Siglo XX,
The Moody Blues,
Nils Olav,
Sam Rivers,
Brick,
Zapp,
Stereo Dub,
Wings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Vogues,
Banda Bassotti,
Duran Duran,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deakin,
Fela Kuti,
Saccharine Trust,
Flash Fearless,
Chris Corsano,
The Stooges,
Rakim,
The Fall,
Deepchord,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.