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 St Lucia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Zero Boys to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Fear,
Cybotron,
Matthew Bourne,
Marc Almond,
These Immortal Souls,
Tres Demented,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Freddie Wadling,
Suburban Knight,
U.S. Maple,
The Neon Judgement,
The Index,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Red Krayola,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ronan,
Lucky Dragons,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Susan Cadogan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Walker Brothers,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
Ten City,
Agitation Free,
New Age Steppers,
Colin Newman,
Soul II Soul,
cv313,
Todd Terry,
Roxy Music,
Stiv Bators,
The Gap Band,
Pylon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crash Course in Science,
Blake Baxter,
Clear Light,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crooked Eye,
Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Panda Bear,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Happenings,
Pagans,
Scrapy,
New Order,
X-101,
K-Klass,
Aural Exciters,
Slick Rick,
Bizarre Inc.,
Echospace,
Mars,
Jandek,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.