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 Mali and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Skarface to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Juan Atkins,
Ronan,
Scan 7,
Los Fastidios,
Essential Logic,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare,
A Certain Ratio,
Rakim,
World's Most,
The Count Five,
The Cramps,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Second Layer,
Tres Demented,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monolake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
T. Rex,
Negative Approach,
Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
Gerry Rafferty,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Bourne,
Lyres,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Lynne,
The Velvet Underground,
Fear,
David Axelrod,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Accadde A,
Radio Birdman,
Suburban Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
In Retrospect,
Sarah Menescal,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Five Americans,
The Pop Group,
Mr. Review,
DJ Style,
OOIOO,
The Motions,
Pere Ubu,
Agent Orange,
E-Dancer,
Interpol,
The Star Department,
Lalann,
Amazonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.