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 Jordan and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Scion to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jeff Mills,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers,
Bob Dylan,
The Happenings,
Can,
Kerrie Biddell,
Banda Bassotti,
10cc,
Excepter,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Lynne,
CMW,
The Fire Engines,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Beau Brummels,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Andrew Hill,
Grauzone,
The Monochrome Set,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Isaac Hayes,
Al Stewart,
Warsaw,
UT,
The New Christs,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Albert Ayler,
Bill Wells,
The Divine Comedy,
Bill Near,
Fat Boys,
Heaven 17,
the Swans,
Neu!,
Theoretical Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
Duran Duran,
Lungfish,
Reuben Wilson,
Liliput,
John Lydon,
Connie Case,
Harmonia,
Lou Christie,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cybotron,
F. McDonald,
Technova,
Black Bananas,
Ultra Naté,
Smog,
Oblivians,
Newcleus,
The Cowsills,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.