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 Belize and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 Visage to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
This Heat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marmalade,
Silicon Teens,
Livin' Joy,
Crime,
Fat Boys,
MC5,
The Toasters,
Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Q and Not U,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yellowson,
Metal Thangz,
Parry Music,
Porter Ricks,
Barry Ungar,
ABBA,
The Move,
Crash Course in Science,
Hardrive,
The Happenings,
Outsiders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swell Maps,
Barbara Tucker,
Bob Dylan,
Brothers Johnson,
Boz Scaggs,
Von Mondo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DJ Style,
the Bar-Kays,
The Last Poets,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Josef K,
X-101,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Audionom,
EPMD,
Tubeway Army,
One Last Wish,
Ultra Naté,
Tommy Roe,
Vladislav Delay,
Cymande,
Television Personalities,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dawn Penn,
Chrome,
China Crisis,
Harmonia,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Whodini,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.