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 Oman and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 The Index to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Bluetip,
The Litter,
Vladislav Delay,
Scratch Acid,
Joy Division,
Harmonia,
B.T. Express,
Section 25,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Young Rascals,
The Monochrome Set,
Blancmange,
The Mummies,
Sparks,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rakim,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Martian,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Victims,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Suicide,
The Flesh Eaters,
Neil Young,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eli Mardock,
kango's stein massive,
David McCallum,
Khruangbin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bootsy Collins,
The Black Dice,
Janne Schatter,
Crime,
Barrington Levy,
Parry Music,
Little Man,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The New Christs,
The Zeros,
Sandy B,
Basic Channel,
Isaac Hayes,
Average White Band,
Porter Ricks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Normal,
Quando Quango,
Infiniti,
Theoretical Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.