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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 Bobby Byrd to the crunk 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Lalann,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Shuggie Otis,
The Angels of Light,
Howard Jones,
Jacob Miller,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Monochrome Set,
Dave Gahan,
Sam Rivers,
Audionom,
Ituana,
Interpol,
Gang Starr,
Thompson Twins,
Arab on Radar,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dead Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bush Tetras,
Don Cherry,
Fela Kuti,
Severed Heads,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bad Manners,
Los Fastidios,
Main Source,
Roger Hodgson,
Radio Birdman,
In Retrospect,
Warsaw,
The Kinks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Easy Going,
Judy Mowatt,
Reuben Wilson,
Q65,
Sister Nancy,
Erykah Badu,
Sarah Menescal,
Shoche,
Glambeats Corp.,
Prince Buster,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Harmonia,
Royal Trux,
Moby Grape,
The J.B.'s,
Chris & Cosey,
MC5,
A Certain Ratio,
Ohio Players,
Rekid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Soft Cell,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.