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 Iran and from Beijing.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Cal Tjader,
The Toasters,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
Shuggie Otis,
Barry Ungar,
Guru Guru,
Steve Hackett,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Trojans,
Shoche,
Bobby Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
Panda Bear,
Susan Cadogan,
Carl Craig,
Faust,
Schoolly D,
Arcadia,
Bob Dylan,
Peter and Kerry,
Nick Fraelich,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jacques Brel,
LL Cool J,
Excepter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Toni Rubio,
The New Christs,
Pussy Galore,
Dawn Penn,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warsaw,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Golliwogs,
Livin' Joy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
Ronan,
The Names,
Eden Ahbez,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dead C,
Tim Buckley,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Womack,
the Germs,
The Smoke,
Tomorrow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harmonia,
Todd Rundgren,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.