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 Togo 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Slave to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Buckinghams,
Fad Gadget,
Sexual Harrassment,
Clear Light,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Loose Ends,
Animal Collective,
Gregory Isaacs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thompson Twins,
Silicon Teens,
Minny Pops,
Howard Jones,
Max Romeo,
Rites of Spring,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bronski Beat,
Qualms,
F. McDonald,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cal Tjader,
Smog,
Ken Boothe,
Agent Orange,
Can,
Gil Scott Heron,
Spoonie Gee,
Ludus,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Offenders,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear,
Malaria!,
Zero Boys,
The Last Poets,
kango's stein massive,
Laurel Aitken,
Ice-T,
Tropical Tobacco,
Whodini,
The Misunderstood,
Flipper,
Josef K,
The Move,
Masters at Work,
The Barracudas,
Buzzcocks,
The Moody Blues,
Swell Maps,
Albert Ayler,
The Trojans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Reuben Wilson,
Little Man,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.