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 Italy and from London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Angels of Light to the jazz 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Fatback Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fuzztones,
Scion,
Carl Craig,
X-Ray Spex,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
Sarah Menescal,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Bananas,
Grey Daturas,
Mars,
The Doobie Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Ohio Players,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chris & Cosey,
Malaria!,
Harry Pussy,
The Slits,
James White and The Blacks,
Chris Corsano,
The Young Rascals,
The Motions,
Rhythm & Sound,
Niagra,
The American Breed,
Cecil Taylor,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
48th St. Collective,
Pet Shop Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stiv Bators,
The Monochrome Set,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Martian,
Groovy Waters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joyce Sims,
John Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Audionom,
Eve St. Jones,
The Last Poets,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cure,
Unwound,
Lou Reed,
Marmalade,
Thee Headcoats,
Prince Buster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.