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 Egypt and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eve St. Jones to the crunk 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Severed Heads,
Stereo Dub,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Eden Ahbez,
Fluxion,
Nik Kershaw,
F. McDonald,
Jeff Lynne,
Wings,
Pulsallama,
Ponytail,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grauzone,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rotary Connection,
Blancmange,
Joe Smooth,
Interpol,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Black Dice,
D'Angelo,
Rapeman,
Black Bananas,
Arcadia,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Babytalk,
The Seeds,
DJ Sneak,
Max Romeo,
Marc Almond,
Altered Images,
The Blues Magoos,
Outsiders,
Siglo XX,
Public Enemy,
Barbara Tucker,
Mars,
the Association,
Quadrant,
L. Decosne,
Robert Görl,
The Angels of Light,
The Selecter,
Pagans,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Angry Samoans,
Nirvana,
Spandau Ballet,
Royal Trux,
Pierre Henry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Vogues,
Procol Harum,
Alison Limerick,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.