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 Botswana and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Smoke to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cluster,
David Axelrod,
Blancmange,
The Grass Roots,
Severed Heads,
Arcadia,
Quantec,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Johnny Osbourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Golliwogs,
Saccharine Trust,
The Slackers,
Morten Harket,
Rakim,
Unwound,
The Misunderstood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Average White Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Television Personalities,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blake Baxter,
Boz Scaggs,
Mandrill,
the Bar-Kays,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Hood,
The Pretty Things,
Goldenarms,
Zapp,
Cal Tjader,
Thee Headcoats,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nation of Ulysses,
Niagra,
Danielle Patucci,
The Red Krayola,
Brick,
Sister Nancy,
Peter and Kerry,
Rites of Spring,
Moby Grape,
Joy Division,
The Standells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Theoretical Girls,
The Angels of Light,
The Wake,
Deepchord,
Stockholm Monsters,
Erykah Badu,
Nik Kershaw,
This Heat,
the Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
Charles Mingus,
Popol Vuh,
Au Pairs,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.