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 Suriname and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Reagan Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Black Moon,
The Walker Brothers,
Vainqueur,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mo-Dettes,
Minutemen,
Brick,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bizarre Inc.,
Essential Logic,
Harmonia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rakim,
John Holt,
Andrew Hill,
The Gladiators,
Malaria!,
Fat Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Doobie Brothers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chris & Cosey,
Unrelated Segments,
Echospace,
Ultravox,
Tears for Fears,
Yusef Lateef,
Talk Talk,
Alphaville,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
U.S. Maple,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Grass Roots,
Lindisfarne,
Morten Harket,
Joyce Sims,
Lalo Schifrin,
E-Dancer,
The Victims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stockholm Monsters,
Altered Images,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scratch Acid,
Shoche,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Das Ding,
The Monks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Parrish,
The Vogues,
Maurizio,
Chrome,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.