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 Italy and from Cairo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blackbyrds to the punk 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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Sixth Finger,
Eddi Front,
Pussy Galore,
Joensuu 1685,
Fluxion,
the Swans,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Misunderstood,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barbara Tucker,
Adolescents,
Jeff Mills,
Alphaville,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Massinfluence,
Minnie Riperton,
The Dirtbombs,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis,
Iggy Pop,
Visage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
OOIOO,
Traffic Nightmare,
Franke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vladislav Delay,
Lucky Dragons,
DJ Style,
Davy DMX,
Isaac Hayes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Parry Music,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Green,
Man Eating Sloth,
Interpol,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Lynne,
Neu!,
Sister Nancy,
Delta 5,
China Crisis,
Vainqueur,
Eurythmics,
the Normal,
Fatback Band,
the Sonics,
Gang Starr,
Black Pus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Glenn Branca,
Section 25,
Underground Resistance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Royal Trux,
June of 44,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.