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 Tajikistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Holger Czukay 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the techno 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Lungfish,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Reed,
The Trojans,
10cc,
Wire,
The Moody Blues,
The Barracudas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rufus Thomas,
The Raincoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Index,
Brass Construction,
Gabor Szabo,
FM Einheit,
Roxette,
DJ Sneak,
Nik Kershaw,
Joyce Sims,
Barry Ungar,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
U.S. Maple,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aloha Tigers,
Radiohead,
The Star Department,
kango's stein massive,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Bananas,
World's Most,
Clear Light,
The Divine Comedy,
L. Decosne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Albert Ayler,
MC5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hashim,
Peter and Kerry,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Lydon,
Morten Harket,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Metal Thangz,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Funky Four + One,
Siglo XX,
the Bar-Kays,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pussy Galore,
Erasure,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Faust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.