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 East Timor and from Milan.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Fela Kuti to the disco 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Main Source,
Glenn Branca,
Ronan,
Faraquet,
The Divine Comedy,
Don Cherry,
Minnie Riperton,
Nick Fraelich,
Mission of Burma,
New Order,
Tears for Fears,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Pus,
The Selecter,
Essential Logic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Au Pairs,
Funky Four + One,
The Fall,
8 Eyed Spy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Electric Prunes,
Sight & Sound,
DJ Style,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed,
Ken Boothe,
The Wake,
Adolescents,
Aaron Thompson,
Zero Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Bananas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Trumans Water,
R.M.O.,
David Bowie,
Arcadia,
Suicide,
The Real Kids,
Monolake,
Marmalade,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joey Negro,
The J.B.'s,
Scrapy,
The Raincoats,
The Victims,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bang On A Can,
Mo-Dettes,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare,
ABBA,
The Flesh Eaters,
Terry Callier,
Con Funk Shun,
Slave,
Pulsallama,
The Sound,
The Music Machine,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.