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 Kazakhstan and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the dance 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Youth Brigade,
Black Bananas,
Donald Byrd,
Tropical Tobacco,
Steve Hackett,
Public Image Ltd.,
This Heat,
Kool Moe Dee,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marine Girls,
Anakelly,
X-102,
Cluster,
The Sound,
Severed Heads,
The Selecter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Freddie Wadling,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Dolphy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Saints,
Susan Cadogan,
Lebanon Hanover,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maleditus Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Young Marble Giants,
The J.B.'s,
Robert Hood,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erasure,
Bob Dylan,
Barry Ungar,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Josef K,
In Retrospect,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chrome,
Yaz,
The Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cybotron,
Crime,
Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Funky Four + One,
The Last Poets,
The Electric Prunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Moss Icon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Moebius,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cymande,
Quantec,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ornette Coleman,
Pulsallama,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.