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 Ghana and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Fat Boys to the funk 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Judy Mowatt,
Davy DMX,
Cybotron,
Severed Heads,
The Seeds,
World's Most,
Erasure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sam Rivers,
Make Up,
Thee Headcoats,
Hasil Adkins,
Jandek,
Rotary Connection,
Skarface,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slackers,
Amon Düül,
Rosa Yemen,
Jacob Miller,
Dual Sessions,
Dennis Brown,
Anthony Braxton,
Saccharine Trust,
These Immortal Souls,
Liliput,
Marine Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Visage,
DJ Sneak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris & Cosey,
X-101,
Kayak,
ABBA,
The Martian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Althea and Donna,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Names,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ponytail,
Fat Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Qualms,
Black Flag,
Brick,
Gichy Dan,
Deakin,
The Cramps,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
B.T. Express,
Deepchord,
the Human League,
The Raincoats,
The Fuzztones,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.