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 Tajikistan and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Half Japanese to the grunge 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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 Dead C,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang of Four,
Gregory Isaacs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dead Boys,
Quadrant,
Blancmange,
The Smoke,
Fela Kuti,
Steve Hackett,
The Golliwogs,
Black Pus,
These Immortal Souls,
Cymande,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thee Headcoats,
Skaos,
Anakelly,
Sight & Sound,
The Red Krayola,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
Eli Mardock,
Symarip,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Erasure,
EPMD,
Agent Orange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nils Olav,
Marmalade,
Piero Umiliani,
Colin Newman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stockholm Monsters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grey Daturas,
Silicon Teens,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
The Busters,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sex Pistols,
Bronski Beat,
Make Up,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ossler,
The Cowsills,
Faraquet,
Ken Boothe,
the Slits,
Crime,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.