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 Morocco and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
T.S.O.L.,
Visage,
Youth Brigade,
Roxy Music,
the Bar-Kays,
Reagan Youth,
John Lydon,
Scan 7,
Lucky Dragons,
Ken Boothe,
Donald Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Hood,
Parry Music,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
Crime,
Amazonics,
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
Flash Fearless,
Throbbing Gristle,
D'Angelo,
Black Bananas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terry Callier,
Nils Olav,
Marvin Gaye,
Nas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Grass Roots,
Rites of Spring,
Bill Wells,
Khruangbin,
The Slits,
Mandrill,
The Monks,
The Seeds,
Japan,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Intrusion,
The Residents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Livin' Joy,
Deepchord,
Scratch Acid,
Hot Snakes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blancmange,
K-Klass,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Essential Logic,
Public Enemy,
Sex Pistols,
Urselle,
Depeche Mode,
The Misunderstood,
The Dirtbombs,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.