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 Bahrain 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Slick Rick to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fall,
Soft Cell,
Lyres,
Sun Ra,
David McCallum,
Second Layer,
These Immortal Souls,
Heaven 17,
Harmonia,
Japan,
Ronan,
Darondo,
DNA,
Chris Corsano,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare,
Thompson Twins,
New York Dolls,
Rekid,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Hoover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Aloha Tigers,
Todd Rundgren,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott Heron,
One Last Wish,
the Normal,
Minnie Riperton,
H. Thieme,
Minutemen,
Fatback Band,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Lynne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yellowson,
Wasted Youth,
New Order,
Colin Newman,
Fela Kuti,
Clear Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scratch Acid,
The Red Krayola,
Eric Copeland,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Au Pairs,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Byrd,
Max Romeo,
Howard Jones,
The Dead C,
Hot Snakes,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.