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 Oman and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Ten City to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Anthony Braxton,
Trumans Water,
The Sound,
Erasure,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tres Demented,
The Litter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dorothy Ashby,
Easy Going,
Desert Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sixth Finger,
Bizarre Inc.,
Simply Red,
PIL,
Andrew Hill,
Scientists,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aaron Thompson,
The Victims,
Slick Rick,
Scan 7,
Das Ding,
Guru Guru,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wings,
Tropical Tobacco,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Parrish,
Charles Mingus,
the Bar-Kays,
Lindisfarne,
Fugazi,
Gang of Four,
The Gladiators,
Tom Boy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young,
David Bowie,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eric Dolphy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Severed Heads,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Icehouse,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.