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 the UAE and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 The Remains to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
R.M.O.,
The Pop Group,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hashim,
Section 25,
Bobby Byrd,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
Panda Bear,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Wells,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mojo Men,
The Trojans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tomorrow,
Scott Walker,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Altered Images,
Scan 7,
Khruangbin,
Fad Gadget,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brothers Johnson,
The Offenders,
E-Dancer,
The Invisible,
Gil Scott Heron,
World's Most,
The Gap Band,
Motorama,
The Buckinghams,
Porter Ricks,
Lakeside,
The Young Rascals,
June Days,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Techniques,
Procol Harum,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Monochrome Set,
Sound Behaviour,
Zapp,
Roger Hodgson,
The Searchers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Essential Logic,
Quando Quango,
Stiv Bators,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Heaven 17,
Cameo,
Stereo Dub,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.