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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Star Department to the punk 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon 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?
R.M.O.,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Laurel Aitken,
John Holt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ornette Coleman,
Prince Buster,
Michelle Simonal,
FM Einheit,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang On A Can,
Monolake,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Associates,
Pussy Galore,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skriet,
Jerry's Kids,
Bush Tetras,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Blake Baxter,
Wally Richardson,
Scott Walker,
Janne Schatter,
The Count Five,
Josef K,
Zero Boys,
The Smiths,
The Moody Blues,
Index,
The Birthday Party,
Brothers Johnson,
Dawn Penn,
X-102,
The Searchers,
Heaven 17,
Gang Green,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Man Eating Sloth,
Brick,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Scrapy,
Average White Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Simply Red,
Curtis Mayfield,
New Age Steppers,
Charles Mingus,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Litter,
Joey Negro,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
B.T. Express,
Pierre Henry,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.