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 Latvia and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
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 Michael McDonald 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Glenn Branca,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
E-Dancer,
The Moody Blues,
Chris & Cosey,
Masters at Work,
Isaac Hayes,
Desert Stars,
Dark Day,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monolake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sonic Youth,
The Black Dice,
Icehouse,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Can,
The Cowsills,
Amazonics,
Eurythmics,
Davy DMX,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Angels of Light,
The Dead C,
Chris Corsano,
World's Most,
The Searchers,
Minutemen,
Robert Görl,
The Fall,
K-Klass,
Gregory Isaacs,
Television Personalities,
Eve St. Jones,
The Doors,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barbara Tucker,
Bauhaus,
Rakim,
Fela Kuti,
La Düsseldorf,
Faraquet,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Holt,
Kas Product,
Drexciya,
Theoretical Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Moebius,
Motorama,
David Bowie,
Johnny Osbourne,
Zapp,
Pierre Henry,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suburban Knight,
Mantronix,
Marmalade,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.