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 Tajikistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eden Ahbez to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Jeff Lynne,
Byron Stingily,
The Associates,
Can,
Das Ding,
Faraquet,
Eddi Front,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick May,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Zapp,
Visage,
Marvin Gaye,
Man Eating Sloth,
MDC,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick Morgan,
Sam Rivers,
L. Decosne,
The Smiths,
Quadrant,
Malaria!,
The Residents,
Erasure,
Roxy Music,
The Happenings,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Q65,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Mills,
Supertramp,
B.T. Express,
The Trojans,
Kas Product,
The Saints,
Iggy Pop,
Wally Richardson,
Flipper,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fela Kuti,
Grauzone,
The Neon Judgement,
Hasil Adkins,
The Real Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dirtbombs,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacob Miller,
Slick Rick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Wyatt,
Alison Limerick,
the Slits,
Black Bananas,
Animal Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
The Monochrome Set,
Morten Harket,
Drive Like Jehu,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.