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 Turkey and from London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Wasted Youth,
Sam Rivers,
Pere Ubu,
Crooked Eye,
Archie Shepp,
The Victims,
Monks,
Youth Brigade,
Lindisfarne,
Minnie Riperton,
The Divine Comedy,
Glenn Branca,
Graham Central Station,
Goldenarms,
The Associates,
Moss Icon,
Barry Ungar,
New Age Steppers,
Talk Talk,
Jacob Miller,
Technova,
H. Thieme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rites of Spring,
Black Pus,
Clear Light,
Y Pants,
T.S.O.L.,
James White and The Blacks,
MC5,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tears for Fears,
The J.B.'s,
Wings,
Derrick May,
Sandy B,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Interpol,
Mantronix,
Lakeside,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Cell,
Kas Product,
The Saints,
Cluster,
Panda Bear,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harry Pussy,
The Human League,
Black Moon,
The New Christs,
The Evens,
Model 500,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Japan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.