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 Macedonia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Swell Maps,
One Last Wish,
X-101,
Wasted Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
Arcadia,
Bobby Sherman,
Japan,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Icehouse,
Gabor Szabo,
X-Ray Spex,
OOIOO,
Kas Product,
MDC,
Magazine,
Scratch Acid,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hasil Adkins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
10cc,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Bananas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Warren Ellis,
Television Personalities,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rufus Thomas,
Lyres,
Joensuu 1685,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blake Baxter,
Skaos,
Althea and Donna,
Byron Stingily,
Deadbeat,
Spandau Ballet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monolake,
Bauhaus,
Camouflage,
Al Stewart,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jeff Lynne,
AZ,
Jeff Mills,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.