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 Niger and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultravox to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Doors,
Johnny Clarke,
Warren Ellis,
The United States of America,
Roxette,
The Saints,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
Minnie Riperton,
LL Cool J,
Eli Mardock,
The Cure,
Oblivians,
Japan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Sherman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Electric Prunes,
Tubeway Army,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sun Ra,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Byrd,
Jacques Brel,
The Red Krayola,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fall,
The Busters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Slick Rick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yellowson,
The Human League,
Isaac Hayes,
Leonard Cohen,
In Retrospect,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Derrick Morgan,
The Stooges,
The Raincoats,
The Martian,
Amazonics,
New Age Steppers,
H. Thieme,
Boz Scaggs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pussy Galore,
Sugar Minott,
Donald Byrd,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Bar-Kays,
Eddi Front,
Crooked Eye,
Can,
Hardrive,
Unwound,
Make Up,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.