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 Singapore and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Harmonia to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brass Construction,
Neu!,
Boogie Down Productions,
Groovy Waters,
Grey Daturas,
Camberwell Now,
The Cramps,
Icehouse,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moebius,
Swans,
Henry Cow,
Young Marble Giants,
The American Breed,
Minnie Riperton,
The Trojans,
Deakin,
Black Moon,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ken Boothe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Hood,
Brothers Johnson,
Rufus Thomas,
Idris Muhammad,
Anthony Braxton,
Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
The Neon Judgement,
Morten Harket,
DJ Sneak,
The Doors,
Trumans Water,
Mary Jane Girls,
Little Man,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fat Boys,
Piero Umiliani,
Ituana,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Black Dice,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Animal Collective,
Outsiders,
John Foxx,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
New Order,
Man Parrish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Iggy Pop,
Eric Copeland,
the Fania All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.