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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Terrestrial Tones to the jazz 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Zero Boys,
Cameo,
Kayak,
Vladislav Delay,
Visage,
Amazonics,
Outsiders,
Trumans Water,
Althea and Donna,
Kurtis Blow,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Massinfluence,
Connie Case,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
Big Daddy Kane,
Reagan Youth,
Das Ding,
The Grass Roots,
Depeche Mode,
Wings,
Roy Ayers,
Joensuu 1685,
Stereo Dub,
The Moody Blues,
Arab on Radar,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erykah Badu,
Youth Brigade,
Country Teasers,
The Pop Group,
Mantronix,
Sex Pistols,
Deepchord,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eric Dolphy,
JFA,
Max Romeo,
Shoche,
Scott Walker,
Howard Jones,
Lou Christie,
Cecil Taylor,
The Invisible,
Maleditus Sound,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chris Corsano,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nirvana,
The Pretty Things,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Theoretical Girls,
The Five Americans,
Icehouse,
Aswad,
The Moleskins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick May,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.