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 Botswana and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Infiniti to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '80s.
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 Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
the Swans,
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
T. Rex,
Intrusion,
Suicide,
The United States of America,
Boredoms,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Television,
Cluster,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Shoche,
Interpol,
Oblivians,
Livin' Joy,
T.S.O.L.,
Flamin' Groovies,
New Age Steppers,
Nick Fraelich,
Kenny Larkin,
Donald Byrd,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mojo Men,
Rapeman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
David Axelrod,
B.T. Express,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantaleimon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Model 500,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ice-T,
UT,
Banda Bassotti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Patti Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
Grauzone,
The Fall,
Iggy Pop,
Gichy Dan,
This Heat,
Maleditus Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ossler,
Funky Four + One,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vladislav Delay,
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
X-Ray Spex,
Nirvana,
Y Pants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.