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 Sweden and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 John Holt to the rap 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Ohio Players,
UT,
Sällskapet,
Agitation Free,
Gang Green,
Excepter,
Lyres,
Joyce Sims,
Hot Snakes,
Camberwell Now,
The Doors,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Slave,
Dawn Penn,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Robert Hood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ornette Coleman,
Scrapy,
Parry Music,
Bob Dylan,
Derrick May,
The Residents,
Glenn Branca,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eurythmics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Searchers,
Blossom Toes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Grass Roots,
Nirvana,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Jeff Lynne,
the Human League,
Carl Craig,
Soulsonic Force,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lindisfarne,
New Age Steppers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Panda Bear,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flipper,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Monks,
Minnie Riperton,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quando Quango,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Bar-Kays,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eve St. Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Prince Buster,
Yellowson,
Vainqueur,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.