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 Singapore 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Sparks,
The Motions,
Icehouse,
Lebanon Hanover,
DJ Style,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Green,
Lungfish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Smiths,
The Evens,
Grauzone,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Sheep,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wings,
Joyce Sims,
8 Eyed Spy,
Loose Ends,
Pharoah Sanders,
Donny Hathaway,
The Happenings,
Fugazi,
Terry Callier,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Section 25,
Hardrive,
Toni Rubio,
Graham Central Station,
Tom Boy,
The Saints,
X-Ray Spex,
Inner City,
The Slits,
Negative Approach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ornette Coleman,
Brand Nubian,
Barbara Tucker,
Nick Fraelich,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mandrill,
Malaria!,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Leonard Cohen,
The Fortunes,
Accadde A,
Duran Duran,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Basic Channel,
Pere Ubu,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.