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 Poland and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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. Jay Z And Juelz to the disco 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Anthony Braxton,
Joe Finger,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The American Breed,
Electric Prunes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Laurel Aitken,
John Foxx,
Mark Hollis,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Hill,
Pere Ubu,
Blake Baxter,
Cluster,
Aswad,
Eddi Front,
Al Stewart,
Dark Day,
Quantec,
E-Dancer,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rosa Yemen,
Deakin,
Pierre Henry,
The Beau Brummels,
Matthew Halsall,
the Bar-Kays,
Charles Mingus,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slackers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Graham Central Station,
Magma,
Bush Tetras,
Marmalade,
Gregory Isaacs,
Vladislav Delay,
Silicon Teens,
Amon Düül II,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dead C,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sonic Youth,
Qualms,
Dead Boys,
Simply Red,
Byron Stingily,
Lalann,
the Sonics,
The Smoke,
Jeff Lynne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Howard Jones,
Q and Not U,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
DJ Style,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.