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 South Sudan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Siglo XX to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Saints,
Qualms,
Barry Ungar,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Prunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Infiniti,
Marc Almond,
Blossom Toes,
Dual Sessions,
The Slackers,
Procol Harum,
John Foxx,
Maurizio,
Moss Icon,
Brass Construction,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mars,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare,
The Dead C,
China Crisis,
the Sonics,
Zero Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tomorrow,
Boogie Down Productions,
Howard Jones,
The Fugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Inner City,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Crispian St. Peters,
H. Thieme,
Sandy B,
the Slits,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Quadrant,
Joe Smooth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bizarre Inc.,
T. Rex,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
The Busters,
Moby Grape,
The Divine Comedy,
John Lydon,
Mo-Dettes,
Schoolly D,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxy Music,
Tommy Roe,
The Trojans,
The Selecter,
The Mojo Men,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Khruangbin,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.