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 Angola and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Adolescents to the funk 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Crash Course in Science,
June Days,
Mad Mike,
Nils Olav,
Lungfish,
Kerri Chandler,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Andrew Hill,
Camouflage,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Smiths,
The Gun Club,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bob Dylan,
Neil Young,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scientists,
Rites of Spring,
Animal Collective,
Loose Ends,
Duran Duran,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy Collins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pere Ubu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cheater Slicks,
Schoolly D,
The Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
Danielle Patucci,
Dennis Brown,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Busters,
the Sonics,
The Remains,
Fela Kuti,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Swans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Toni Rubio,
Talk Talk,
F. McDonald,
Urselle,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
Mandrill,
Second Layer,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Youth Brigade,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Standells,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Slave,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Junior Murvin,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.