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 South Africa and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Isaac Hayes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Misunderstood,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Buckinghams,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Glenn Branca,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Birthday Party,
Reagan Youth,
Roy Ayers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Talk Talk,
Wings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Simply Red,
Terry Callier,
Donald Byrd,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aural Exciters,
Pere Ubu,
The Techniques,
Ultra Naté,
Accadde A,
X-Ray Spex,
The Trojans,
FM Einheit,
Dark Day,
Josef K,
Derrick Morgan,
Barry Ungar,
Visage,
Clear Light,
Mad Mike,
LL Cool J,
The Invisible,
Skriet,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Christie,
Lyres,
B.T. Express,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Absolute Body Control,
The Raincoats,
Amazonics,
The Evens,
Eddi Front,
Brick,
K-Klass,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter and Kerry,
The Divine Comedy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.