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 Jamaica and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Reuben Wilson to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Names,
LL Cool J,
The Wake,
Joey Negro,
Yaz,
The Last Poets,
Crime,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dave Gahan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Fania All-Stars,
Agitation Free,
Moebius,
The Detroit Cobras,
DNA,
the Bar-Kays,
Drexciya,
John Foxx,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Pretty Things,
The Red Krayola,
Lucky Dragons,
Reuben Wilson,
The Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Enemy,
Alison Limerick,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
EPMD,
Spandau Ballet,
the Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Anakelly,
John Holt,
Suburban Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
Fatback Band,
Tommy Roe,
Dorothy Ashby,
Television,
June of 44,
Infiniti,
Youth Brigade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lindisfarne,
The Walker Brothers,
Television Personalities,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kayak,
The Invisible,
These Immortal Souls,
Amazonics,
U.S. Maple,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Raincoats,
Nirvana,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.