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 Algeria and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pierre Henry,
Slick Rick,
The Cramps,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Flesh Eaters,
Trumans Water,
Man Parrish,
Blossom Toes,
The Modern Lovers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Thompson Twins,
Index,
Guru Guru,
Boz Scaggs,
The Invisible,
Cymande,
The Music Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Main Source,
Roxette,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Das Ding,
Rosa Yemen,
The Standells,
Bobby Sherman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Terry,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric Dolphy,
Vladislav Delay,
Royal Trux,
China Crisis,
Monks,
H. Thieme,
LL Cool J,
Sun City Girls,
Janne Schatter,
Swell Maps,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green,
The Searchers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Make Up,
Smog,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Techniques,
Josef K,
Absolute Body Control,
the Slits,
Anakelly,
Shuggie Otis,
Gang Gang Dance,
MC5,
Michelle Simonal,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.