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 Mali and from New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Tres Demented to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Shoche,
Joyce Sims,
Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gichy Dan,
Electric Prunes,
Negative Approach,
Yusef Lateef,
Boz Scaggs,
Harry Pussy,
Judy Mowatt,
Subhumans,
The Martian,
The Count Five,
Bill Wells,
Erasure,
Excepter,
Khruangbin,
Avey Tare,
Quando Quango,
Make Up,
Ornette Coleman,
The Residents,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tim Buckley,
The Black Dice,
Grey Daturas,
Mark Hollis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
One Last Wish,
Royal Trux,
Glambeats Corp.,
Television Personalities,
The Searchers,
June of 44,
Black Flag,
Pylon,
Fluxion,
Tommy Roe,
Kaleidoscope,
Audionom,
U.S. Maple,
The Music Machine,
Jerry's Kids,
Pulsallama,
Roxette,
Jeru the Damaja,
Icehouse,
X-Ray Spex,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Animal Collective,
Scrapy,
Eddi Front,
E-Dancer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minny Pops,
Sound Behaviour,
The Buckinghams,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.