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 Somalia and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Au Pairs to the funk 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
The Skatalites,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brass Construction,
The Smoke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Shoche,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cramps,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ken Boothe,
Procol Harum,
Fluxion,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Stooges,
Jawbox,
The Count Five,
Brand Nubian,
T.S.O.L.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Toasters,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
Grey Daturas,
Alphaville,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nas,
Connie Case,
Pet Shop Boys,
China Crisis,
Tubeway Army,
The Grass Roots,
Eli Mardock,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jacob Miller,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lower 48,
The Doors,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
One Last Wish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crash Course in Science,
Bang On A Can,
Oblivians,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Maleditus Sound,
Unwound,
The Knickerbockers,
The Buckinghams,
Pere Ubu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Con Funk Shun,
Vainqueur,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boz Scaggs,
Toni Rubio,
Aswad,
Quando Quango,
The Leaves,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Infiniti,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.