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 Lesotho and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the punk 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Hoover,
Peter & Gordon,
The Offenders,
John Coltrane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Seeds,
The Slackers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Symarip,
Black Moon,
Jerry's Kids,
Sound Behaviour,
The Pretty Things,
Section 25,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Sheep,
Malaria!,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Raincoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crime,
Kenny Larkin,
Con Funk Shun,
Bauhaus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heaven 17,
The Last Poets,
The Cowsills,
Los Fastidios,
Bob Dylan,
Tim Buckley,
Arab on Radar,
The American Breed,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Sherman,
Monks,
Spoonie Gee,
Ossler,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monolake,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pere Ubu,
AZ,
Brand Nubian,
Jeru the Damaja,
Davy DMX,
Robert Hood,
Rufus Thomas,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mars,
Lakeside,
The Music Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slick Rick,
Roger Hodgson,
Roy Ayers,
Skaos,
Eden Ahbez,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.