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 Bhutan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Monochrome Set to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Man Parrish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Frankie Knuckles,
Carl Craig,
John Foxx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The American Breed,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fear,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Misunderstood,
Stetsasonic,
K-Klass,
Iggy Pop,
Infiniti,
The Buckinghams,
Lightning Bolt,
The Last Poets,
Ronan,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
Sam Rivers,
D'Angelo,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed,
Brothers Johnson,
The Vogues,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Litter,
Harry Pussy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Warren Ellis,
Accadde A,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scrapy,
Lower 48,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
UT,
Can,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mission of Burma,
the Bar-Kays,
Bob Dylan,
Pierre Henry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Human League,
Tomorrow,
La Düsseldorf,
Neu!,
Gang of Four,
10cc,
Symarip,
the Fania All-Stars,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.