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 Bolivia and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 48th St. Collective to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Neu!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yellowson,
Judy Mowatt,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Half Japanese,
The Pretty Things,
Roxy Music,
Scion,
Roy Ayers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Unwound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Byron Stingily,
Radio Birdman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marine Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
The Knickerbockers,
Malaria!,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pylon,
Nirvana,
Deakin,
The Saints,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boredoms,
Nas,
Idris Muhammad,
The Moleskins,
The Blackbyrds,
Mad Mike,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
MC5,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris & Cosey,
Soulsonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Archie Shepp,
Susan Cadogan,
Letta Mbulu,
New Age Steppers,
Mark Hollis,
Michelle Simonal,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Womack,
The Buckinghams,
Supertramp,
The Moody Blues,
Icehouse,
The Barracudas,
Radiopuhelimet,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.