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 South Sudan and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Hoover to the electroclash 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Mr. Review,
The Angels of Light,
Vainqueur,
Deakin,
The Fall,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fugs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun City Girls,
Scrapy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Todd Terry,
Simply Red,
Arab on Radar,
Bootsy Collins,
Electric Prunes,
The Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Barry Ungar,
Clear Light,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Depeche Mode,
The Tremeloes,
Crash Course in Science,
Faraquet,
Japan,
Eurythmics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Smog,
Ituana,
Suicide,
Steve Hackett,
The Invisible,
Icehouse,
Bob Dylan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Raincoats,
One Last Wish,
X-101,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Surgeon,
Don Cherry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sällskapet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wasted Youth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Reuben Wilson,
Deadbeat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Blackbyrds,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Starr,
Neu!,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.