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 Guatemala and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Freddie Wadling to the disco 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
This Heat,
The Litter,
Lungfish,
Nas,
Ice-T,
ABBA,
Deadbeat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Motorama,
The Cramps,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
a-ha,
The Cowsills,
Dave Gahan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arthur Verocai,
Absolute Body Control,
Tom Boy,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Mojo Men,
Ornette Coleman,
Godley & Creme,
Arcadia,
Todd Terry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Graham Central Station,
Public Enemy,
Ken Boothe,
John Coltrane,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick Morgan,
Jawbox,
Moebius,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Offenders,
Spandau Ballet,
Jacques Brel,
X-101,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slits,
The Cure,
Camberwell Now,
Cymande,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tropical Tobacco,
Tommy Roe,
Masters at Work,
Leonard Cohen,
Marvin Gaye,
Aural Exciters,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.