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 Samoa and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Severed Heads to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Kenny Larkin,
Rites of Spring,
Minnie Riperton,
10cc,
Amazonics,
Pantaleimon,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed,
The Alarm Clocks,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Vogues,
The Stooges,
Kerri Chandler,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Magazine,
The Neon Judgement,
Scan 7,
The Names,
Yaz,
Scion,
The Wake,
48th St. Collective,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Durutti Column,
Motorama,
Hot Snakes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Surgeon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gun Club,
Gang Green,
Wings,
John Coltrane,
Patti Smith,
John Cale,
Echospace,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
Fat Boys,
Warren Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
Agitation Free,
Main Source,
The Move,
Brass Construction,
Erasure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Archie Shepp,
Quantec,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Television,
Erykah Badu,
Moebius,
Mad Mike,
Thompson Twins,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.