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 India and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bob Dylan to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Hill,
Sexual Harrassment,
The American Breed,
Eric Copeland,
Black Bananas,
Slick Rick,
Bluetip,
Essential Logic,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Davy DMX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Isaac Hayes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Sonics,
Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yazoo,
Blossom Toes,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Germs,
The Music Machine,
Prince Buster,
The Slackers,
Pantytec,
Jawbox,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Motions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Todd Rundgren,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Pulsallama,
The Moody Blues,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Sherman,
The Skatalites,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Man Parrish,
The Leaves,
Panda Bear,
Sandy B,
World's Most,
The Blackbyrds,
The Victims,
John Holt,
Kas Product,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick May,
Sex Pistols,
Lalo Schifrin,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.