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 Cuba and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 AZ to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
John Cale,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
This Heat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Skarface,
Ten City,
The Monks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter & Gordon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blake Baxter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Guru Guru,
Altered Images,
Jacques Brel,
Unwound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Leaves,
Piero Umiliani,
Outsiders,
Oneida,
Black Bananas,
Chris & Cosey,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Sonics,
Gabor Szabo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soulsonic Force,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Shuggie Otis,
Hoover,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gun Club,
The Seeds,
Mad Mike,
Popol Vuh,
Pantaleimon,
H. Thieme,
Crooked Eye,
Oblivians,
John Holt,
Audionom,
Chrome,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marmalade,
The Busters,
the Slits,
Smog,
R.M.O.,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Zeros,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.