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 Tajikistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the jazz 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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Matthew Bourne,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cameo,
the Soft Cell,
Liliput,
John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
L. Decosne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Danielle Patucci,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Litter,
Organ,
Kurtis Blow,
The Vogues,
Joy Division,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angry Samoans,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun Ra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed,
The Evens,
Slave,
Lyres,
Dead Boys,
Juan Atkins,
EPMD,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
A Certain Ratio,
Wire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gladiators,
Index,
Gabor Szabo,
Audionom,
Wolf Eyes,
Bronski Beat,
The Fire Engines,
The Residents,
Letta Mbulu,
Severed Heads,
The Busters,
Anthony Braxton,
Kool Moe Dee,
Godley & Creme,
The Black Dice,
Pantaleimon,
The Blackbyrds,
The Trojans,
Sound Behaviour,
New York Dolls,
Jimmy McGriff,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Michelle Simonal,
Icehouse,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.