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 Kiribati and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 The Move to the funk 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Victims,
cv313,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gories,
Make Up,
Desert Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Sheep,
D'Angelo,
The Pretty Things,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dirtbombs,
Essential Logic,
The Red Krayola,
Black Flag,
Chrome,
Bobby Sherman,
Patti Smith,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers,
Delta 5,
Soul II Soul,
Sällskapet,
New Age Steppers,
Sparks,
The Star Department,
Rod Modell,
Model 500,
Aswad,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy Collins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter and Kerry,
Pole,
Y Pants,
Unrelated Segments,
The Busters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jawbox,
Terry Callier,
MC5,
The United States of America,
Icehouse,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Donny Hathaway,
Fear,
Joy Division,
Fat Boys,
EPMD,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sound,
Second Layer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
OOIOO,
Andrew Hill,
Panda Bear,
DJ Sneak,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gladiators,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.