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 Swaziland and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gap Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
T. Rex,
the Slits,
Yazoo,
Faust,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Wyatt,
Aural Exciters,
Mad Mike,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aswad,
Ronan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moebius,
K-Klass,
Alton Ellis,
The Techniques,
The Grass Roots,
Quadrant,
The Stooges,
Main Source,
The Fall,
The Index,
Marvin Gaye,
Juan Atkins,
Joy Division,
Gregory Isaacs,
Reagan Youth,
David Bowie,
Talk Talk,
U.S. Maple,
Leonard Cohen,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare,
Minnie Riperton,
Negative Approach,
Davy DMX,
Whodini,
Traffic Nightmare,
Anakelly,
Jeff Mills,
UT,
Dave Gahan,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Residents,
the Fania All-Stars,
Simply Red,
The J.B.'s,
Crash Course in Science,
Dead Boys,
DJ Sneak,
The Moleskins,
The Seeds,
Ossler,
New York Dolls,
the Normal,
Ornette Coleman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cramps,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.