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 Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Con Funk Shun,
Heaven 17,
Oblivians,
Circle Jerks,
Joyce Sims,
Arcadia,
Lyres,
The Kinks,
Simply Red,
Wally Richardson,
Harry Pussy,
Althea and Donna,
Wolf Eyes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pylon,
Skriet,
Trumans Water,
The Toasters,
Infiniti,
Junior Murvin,
DJ Style,
Joe Smooth,
Sex Pistols,
Fad Gadget,
The Young Rascals,
The Smiths,
The Golliwogs,
Fatback Band,
Boz Scaggs,
The Stooges,
Pussy Galore,
The Fall,
One Last Wish,
The Leaves,
DNA,
Ronan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Amon Düül II,
The Offenders,
Rakim,
The Grass Roots,
E-Dancer,
Brothers Johnson,
Arab on Radar,
Roxy Music,
Robert Görl,
K-Klass,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lee Hazlewood,
Babytalk,
Television,
Nas,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
This Heat,
Aloha Tigers,
Moebius,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.