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 Germany and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Neon Judgement to the rock 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 Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Moon,
The Smiths,
Japan,
Con Funk Shun,
New York Dolls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Faust,
Little Man,
Average White Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Tears for Fears,
Mr. Review,
Warren Ellis,
China Crisis,
The Misunderstood,
Alton Ellis,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Finger,
The Cramps,
The Grass Roots,
The Birthday Party,
Prince Buster,
Pagans,
Andrew Hill,
Scion,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moleskins,
Al Stewart,
Mantronix,
Flash Fearless,
Lower 48,
the Bar-Kays,
This Heat,
Quantec,
Silicon Teens,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Doors,
Quadrant,
Kevin Saunderson,
Blancmange,
Gang of Four,
Wings,
The Walker Brothers,
Dark Day,
The Blues Magoos,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
Ornette Coleman,
Symarip,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Simply Red,
David Bowie,
Thee Headcoats,
LL Cool J,
Soft Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Susan Cadogan,
Skriet,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.