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 Syria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Tubeway Army,
D'Angelo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oneida,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Schoolly D,
Shoche,
Scott Walker,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Teasers,
The Busters,
The Grass Roots,
Japan,
Skaos,
Qualms,
10cc,
Kaleidoscope,
Spandau Ballet,
Duran Duran,
Ossler,
The United States of America,
The Moleskins,
MDC,
Gichy Dan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alphaville,
Sugar Minott,
Roxy Music,
Popol Vuh,
Man Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacob Miller,
Ronnie Foster,
a-ha,
Gong,
Arcadia,
Tim Buckley,
Vladislav Delay,
The J.B.'s,
Jeff Lynne,
Faraquet,
Wally Richardson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Matthew Halsall,
Lee Hazlewood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sam Rivers,
Mark Hollis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
La Düsseldorf,
Peter and Kerry,
Ken Boothe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.