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 Guinea and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 The Beau Brummels to the rap 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
D'Angelo,
Maurizio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kayak,
Rosa Yemen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kaleidoscope,
Cheater Slicks,
Metal Thangz,
The Blues Magoos,
Reagan Youth,
David McCallum,
the Bar-Kays,
Grandmaster Flash,
Can,
Spoonie Gee,
Quantec,
Procol Harum,
Skaos,
The Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
Amon Düül II,
UT,
Colin Newman,
Graham Central Station,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Wyatt,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Laurel Aitken,
the Swans,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pole,
The Residents,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Connie Case,
Oneida,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deepchord,
Cybotron,
Black Flag,
Eurythmics,
Moebius,
Quadrant,
Minny Pops,
Patti Smith,
Simply Red,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Christie,
Whodini,
The Misunderstood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Detroit Cobras,
E-Dancer,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yazoo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fad Gadget,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.