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 Costa Rica and from Beijing.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nation of Ulysses to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Human League,
Fugazi,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Techniques,
Kevin Saunderson,
Howard Jones,
Sparks,
Gang of Four,
Sister Nancy,
Todd Terry,
Crime,
Sight & Sound,
Connie Case,
Lalann,
Tres Demented,
Blossom Toes,
Infiniti,
World's Most,
Mark Hollis,
Althea and Donna,
Rapeman,
Yellowson,
The Fire Engines,
Lyres,
Cheater Slicks,
Yaz,
Max Romeo,
Pylon,
Kayak,
Chrome,
Minor Threat,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
Angry Samoans,
The Trojans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Near,
The Moleskins,
Jesper Dahlback,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Livin' Joy,
Maurizio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aloha Tigers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Names,
Slick Rick,
The Young Rascals,
Joe Finger,
Dead Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Intrusion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.