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 Malaysia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Robert Palmer 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 Scott Walker 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alison Limerick,
Roxette,
LL Cool J,
Kaleidoscope,
Radio Birdman,
Yazoo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
UT,
Sällskapet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Neil Young,
Kurtis Blow,
Symarip,
The Move,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Essential Logic,
Royal Trux,
Quando Quango,
Juan Atkins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Buzzcocks,
The Cramps,
Young Marble Giants,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bluetip,
The Doors,
Silicon Teens,
Fela Kuti,
Con Funk Shun,
T. Rex,
Funky Four + One,
Marmalade,
The Black Dice,
the Bar-Kays,
Kenny Larkin,
Agitation Free,
Rotary Connection,
Masters at Work,
Joe Finger,
The Litter,
Spoonie Gee,
Roger Hodgson,
48th St. Collective,
ABBA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Can,
Minutemen,
Deadbeat,
The Fuzztones,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Piero Umiliani,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Style,
Oneida,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fire Engines,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.