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 Swaziland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron 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 Maurizio 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Janne Schatter,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun Ra,
the Soft Cell,
Little Man,
Michelle Simonal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pagans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fear,
Moebius,
Anakelly,
Radio Birdman,
Yazoo,
Alton Ellis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dirtbombs,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rufus Thomas,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
The Cowsills,
Pulsallama,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
Ohio Players,
Hasil Adkins,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang of Four,
Joey Negro,
Boogie Down Productions,
10cc,
Interpol,
The Vogues,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Inner City,
Pussy Galore,
June Days,
The Kinks,
Juan Atkins,
Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott Heron,
Suburban Knight,
The Searchers,
Livin' Joy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Saints,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Cale,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.