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 Sierra Leone and from Mexico City.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator 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 Jesper Dahlbäck 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minnie Riperton,
the Soft Cell,
Marmalade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Patti Smith,
Nico,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cluster,
Mission of Burma,
The Durutti Column,
Charles Mingus,
The Monks,
Roxette,
Junior Murvin,
Groovy Waters,
The Cramps,
Grauzone,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fortunes,
Fugazi,
Alton Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
Thee Headcoats,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
John Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
The Divine Comedy,
Arthur Verocai,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
Shoche,
The Remains,
PIL,
Q65,
Gang Starr,
The Fugs,
DJ Style,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Index,
Silicon Teens,
Camberwell Now,
48th St. Collective,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Techniques,
Al Stewart,
The Blues Magoos,
Donald Byrd,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Green,
Cal Tjader,
Jacques Brel,
Buzzcocks,
Little Man,
Ralphi Rosario,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.