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 Kuwait and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Cramps to the grime 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Charles Mingus,
Subhumans,
Hot Snakes,
Barry Ungar,
The Fuzztones,
Unwound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pet Shop Boys,
Colin Newman,
The Pop Group,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mantronix,
Quadrant,
Ultra Naté,
Scratch Acid,
The Cramps,
Sight & Sound,
Maleditus Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
the Slits,
FM Einheit,
The Index,
The Velvet Underground,
Trumans Water,
Rapeman,
Funky Four + One,
Tubeway Army,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Modern Lovers,
MDC,
Skriet,
Robert Wyatt,
Minny Pops,
Tropical Tobacco,
Darondo,
Bob Dylan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oblivians,
Desert Stars,
Quantec,
The Moleskins,
The United States of America,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aural Exciters,
Fatback Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Curtis Mayfield,
Severed Heads,
John Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
The Standells,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mr. Review,
Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
the Normal,
Procol Harum,
Basic Channel,
Altered Images,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.