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 Niger and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dual Sessions to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Fluxion,
Harry Pussy,
Rufus Thomas,
Blake Baxter,
Silicon Teens,
Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Camouflage,
The Cramps,
Thompson Twins,
Shoche,
Robert Wyatt,
John Lydon,
Swell Maps,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Litter,
Eddi Front,
Television Personalities,
The Neon Judgement,
L. Decosne,
Crime,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Electric Prunes,
Babytalk,
The Dirtbombs,
Radio Birdman,
Crooked Eye,
Joe Smooth,
The Raincoats,
Godley & Creme,
EPMD,
Scan 7,
Youth Brigade,
Rosa Yemen,
Donny Hathaway,
Japan,
The Knickerbockers,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aaron Thompson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Starr,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Angels of Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sight & Sound,
Rekid,
Toni Rubio,
Cheater Slicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Qualms,
Royal Trux,
Ohio Players,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Monolake,
China Crisis,
48th St. Collective,
Niagra,
Thee Headcoats,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.