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 Mauritius and from Toronto.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moody Blues to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
The Golliwogs,
Newcleus,
The Buckinghams,
David Axelrod,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Warsaw,
Sonic Youth,
Make Up,
Infiniti,
Duran Duran,
Nils Olav,
Delon & Dalcan,
B.T. Express,
Pagans,
Sugar Minott,
Dennis Brown,
Maurizio,
The Angels of Light,
Don Cherry,
Soft Cell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Japan,
Wasted Youth,
Ponytail,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Agitation Free,
The Neon Judgement,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tears for Fears,
Boogie Down Productions,
EPMD,
Unrelated Segments,
Charles Mingus,
The Modern Lovers,
New Age Steppers,
Qualms,
Juan Atkins,
Zapp,
Scratch Acid,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
Davy DMX,
R.M.O.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pantytec,
Fela Kuti,
Josef K,
The Associates,
Ken Boothe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Boredoms,
Slick Rick,
Eve St. Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fortunes,
Scrapy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joe Smooth,
Oneida,
The Young Rascals,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.