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 Malaysia and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer 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 Matthew Bourne to the punk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Sugar Minott,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Wyatt,
In Retrospect,
The Last Poets,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lou Christie,
Cymande,
Mad Mike,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monolake,
The Sonics,
Erasure,
The Victims,
Bobby Byrd,
FM Einheit,
The Mummies,
Black Pus,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry's Kids,
Qualms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Hill,
Roxette,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fire Engines,
Mantronix,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Sherman,
Inner City,
The Real Kids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bauhaus,
James White and The Blacks,
Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
Minny Pops,
Dark Day,
The Standells,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lightning Bolt,
Aswad,
Au Pairs,
Smog,
Fad Gadget,
Procol Harum,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Archie Shepp,
The Wake,
Black Bananas,
The Smoke,
Todd Rundgren,
The Fortunes,
The Cowsills,
Lalann,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.