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 Romania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lyres to the rap 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The Names,
Oblivians,
Eve St. Jones,
Rakim,
John Lydon,
48th St. Collective,
Sister Nancy,
The Misunderstood,
Country Teasers,
Tres Demented,
Procol Harum,
Kas Product,
Peter and Kerry,
OOIOO,
Bootsy Collins,
Ossler,
Ronan,
Robert Görl,
The Young Rascals,
The Walker Brothers,
Motorama,
Deadbeat,
Crash Course in Science,
Television Personalities,
New York Dolls,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tomorrow,
The Offenders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Faust,
Accadde A,
The Real Kids,
Fatback Band,
Siglo XX,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barclay James Harvest,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Toni Rubio,
Dorothy Ashby,
This Heat,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Martian,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Popol Vuh,
The Count Five,
Nik Kershaw,
The Tremeloes,
The Modern Lovers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Glambeats Corp.,
Massinfluence,
Max Romeo,
Letta Mbulu,
Graham Central Station,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.