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 Guatemala and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken 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?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ituana,
Yaz,
The Move,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
June of 44,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moby Grape,
Be Bop Deluxe,
cv313,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nils Olav,
The Trojans,
The American Breed,
Spandau Ballet,
Stiv Bators,
Skriet,
Index,
Minny Pops,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bauhaus,
Severed Heads,
Gichy Dan,
Agent Orange,
Sun City Girls,
L. Decosne,
D'Angelo,
Ken Boothe,
Wally Richardson,
The Blues Magoos,
Aloha Tigers,
Arthur Verocai,
Tommy Roe,
Stereo Dub,
Pylon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lakeside,
Jawbox,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neu!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
K-Klass,
Lungfish,
Jacob Miller,
Subhumans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Idris Muhammad,
Shoche,
The Star Department,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
AZ,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Niagra,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.