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 United Kingdom and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Camouflage to the funk 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
John Coltrane,
Neu!,
The New Christs,
Angry Samoans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Quantec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Swans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Maurizio,
The Divine Comedy,
Tears for Fears,
the Association,
Ken Boothe,
Morten Harket,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Tremeloes,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun City Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Görl,
Fifty Foot Hose,
FM Einheit,
Suburban Knight,
Fear,
Unwound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sugar Minott,
Tim Buckley,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Names,
Sister Nancy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stetsasonic,
Newcleus,
The Modern Lovers,
Grauzone,
Masters at Work,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Wyatt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barry Ungar,
Schoolly D,
Absolute Body Control,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Hutcherson,
H. Thieme,
DJ Sneak,
the Normal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Slave,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sex Pistols,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Doors,
ABC,
Youth Brigade,
Pussy Galore,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.