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 Benin and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Toasters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
The Misunderstood,
Hashim,
Pole,
Motorama,
Amazonics,
Franke,
Sam Rivers,
Chrome,
The Residents,
The Victims,
Aural Exciters,
The Searchers,
Donny Hathaway,
Aswad,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boredoms,
Shuggie Otis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dawn Penn,
Silicon Teens,
The Selecter,
Swans,
The Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
The Skatalites,
Black Bananas,
The Slits,
Siglo XX,
One Last Wish,
Ice-T,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Hill,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Durutti Column,
The Blues Magoos,
David McCallum,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Martian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
T. Rex,
Blossom Toes,
Joyce Sims,
Davy DMX,
Iggy Pop,
Skaos,
Black Flag,
Archie Shepp,
The Pretty Things,
Suburban Knight,
Average White Band,
Masters at Work,
Main Source,
Spandau Ballet,
Grey Daturas,
Zapp,
Adolescents,
AZ,
Ossler,
The Leaves,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.