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 Zambia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Scratch Acid to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sandy B,
the Bar-Kays,
Scion,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Slick Rick,
Jerry's Kids,
Moebius,
Massinfluence,
Matthew Halsall,
Spoonie Gee,
Rapeman,
Suburban Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scott Walker,
The Evens,
Banda Bassotti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dennis Brown,
The Last Poets,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Connie Case,
Chrome,
Barrington Levy,
Erasure,
Stetsasonic,
Delta 5,
The Fuzztones,
John Cale,
Scrapy,
The Gories,
Khruangbin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Flag,
Masters at Work,
The Music Machine,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
The Beau Brummels,
Slave,
Lakeside,
Juan Atkins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Leaves,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cybotron,
R.M.O.,
New York Dolls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
The New Christs,
Marc Almond,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fall,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Moby Grape,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.