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 Tunisia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Monks,
Joe Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
Trumans Water,
Faust,
The Buckinghams,
The Busters,
Guru Guru,
the Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Pretty Things,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
Radio Birdman,
Spandau Ballet,
Connie Case,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
Mars,
Khruangbin,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Bar-Kays,
Arthur Verocai,
the Germs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Shoche,
Scrapy,
Bobby Womack,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anakelly,
Black Moon,
John Lydon,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
ABBA,
Audionom,
Siglo XX,
Lindisfarne,
Deepchord,
Gang Green,
The Stooges,
Au Pairs,
Bauhaus,
Public Enemy,
Cameo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Age Steppers,
Howard Jones,
Alison Limerick,
Whodini,
Blake Baxter,
Mandrill,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Cale,
Procol Harum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Zapp,
Animal Collective,
the Normal,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.