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 Malaysia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Groovy Waters to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
The Kinks,
The Busters,
Bauhaus,
Tears for Fears,
JFA,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DNA,
the Swans,
Arab on Radar,
Freddie Wadling,
Grauzone,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joe Finger,
Von Mondo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hot Snakes,
Sarah Menescal,
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed,
The Golliwogs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Essential Logic,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Green,
Das Ding,
Pussy Galore,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharoah Sanders,
Y Pants,
Marc Almond,
Fear,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Janne Schatter,
Bush Tetras,
Roxette,
The Real Kids,
Rod Modell,
Radiohead,
Schoolly D,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television Personalities,
Brand Nubian,
Section 25,
48th St. Collective,
Scrapy,
One Last Wish,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lalann,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minnie Riperton,
The New Christs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Infiniti,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.