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 Latvia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 Masters at Work to the rock 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Massinfluence,
Y Pants,
The Durutti Column,
Graham Central Station,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express,
Qualms,
Matthew Bourne,
Bob Dylan,
The Residents,
The Invisible,
Little Man,
Panda Bear,
the Association,
The Music Machine,
Juan Atkins,
The Raincoats,
Erasure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Bar-Kays,
The Associates,
The Victims,
Cymande,
the Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Ponytail,
Ossler,
The Gladiators,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Red Krayola,
Ludus,
Visage,
Morten Harket,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Royal Trux,
Moebius,
Alphaville,
Yusef Lateef,
K-Klass,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Audionom,
Davy DMX,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stereo Dub,
Sun City Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Country Teasers,
Gichy Dan,
The Standells,
Eric Copeland,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deepchord,
Franke,
8 Eyed Spy,
Flipper,
Harry Pussy,
Sound Behaviour,
The Golliwogs,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.