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 Chad and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 The Fire Engines to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Count Five,
Neu!,
The Durutti Column,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hashim,
Chris & Cosey,
The Angels of Light,
Echospace,
The Flesh Eaters,
June of 44,
Gang Green,
FM Einheit,
Pagans,
Thompson Twins,
New Order,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Monolake,
Soul II Soul,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Womack,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young,
Grey Daturas,
Flash Fearless,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Hood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Darondo,
The Star Department,
Warsaw,
Gang of Four,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
Bill Near,
Monks,
Adolescents,
a-ha,
Rapeman,
The Cowsills,
Suicide,
Archie Shepp,
Bootsy Collins,
The Invisible,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lakeside,
The Cure,
The Tremeloes,
Ohio Players,
Barrington Levy,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Offenders,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.