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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Howard Jones to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Dead Boys,
Gichy Dan,
The Modern Lovers,
This Heat,
Nas,
Avey Tare,
Joe Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bush Tetras,
The Offenders,
Au Pairs,
Archie Shepp,
Simply Red,
The New Christs,
The Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Cell,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
Skaos,
Ronnie Foster,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mantronix,
Magazine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Minor Threat,
Graham Central Station,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Association,
Todd Rundgren,
One Last Wish,
Steve Hackett,
Von Mondo,
The Electric Prunes,
Ronan,
Chrome,
Lee Hazlewood,
Motorama,
The Fugs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rakim,
Gang Starr,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moebius,
The Dead C,
Outsiders,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Average White Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Spoonie Gee,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.