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 Seychelles and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Slits to the jazz 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
a-ha,
The Buckinghams,
Scan 7,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
EPMD,
Black Flag,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tropical Tobacco,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Banda Bassotti,
Cameo,
Blancmange,
Livin' Joy,
Eden Ahbez,
Nation of Ulysses,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Germs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moss Icon,
10cc,
The Trojans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
One Last Wish,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Clarke,
Visage,
The J.B.'s,
Parry Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hasil Adkins,
The Shadows of Knight,
James White and The Blacks,
Ohio Players,
Lungfish,
Sparks,
Blake Baxter,
Mark Hollis,
The Moleskins,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sound,
China Crisis,
Fluxion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chrome,
Pantytec,
Liliput,
Infiniti,
Lightning Bolt,
Severed Heads,
Anthony Braxton,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
Dawn Penn,
Yusef Lateef,
Swell Maps,
Cal Tjader,
Ultra Naté,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.