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 Senegal and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gichy Dan to the grime 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
The Neon Judgement,
Royal Trux,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Colin Newman,
Rufus Thomas,
Desert Stars,
Ituana,
Talk Talk,
Oneida,
Susan Cadogan,
Roxette,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultravox,
Skarface,
The Black Dice,
Aloha Tigers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cramps,
The Dead C,
Lindisfarne,
Saccharine Trust,
The Standells,
Smog,
Blake Baxter,
Nik Kershaw,
Fad Gadget,
Wire,
Juan Atkins,
The Red Krayola,
The Slackers,
The Pretty Things,
Technova,
Derrick May,
Hasil Adkins,
Albert Ayler,
Ken Boothe,
The Grass Roots,
Chrome,
U.S. Maple,
Inner City,
Scott Walker,
Magma,
Warsaw,
Delta 5,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mo-Dettes,
Model 500,
Black Flag,
The Real Kids,
Robert Hood,
FM Einheit,
Roger Hodgson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.