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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Babytalk to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Starr,
Cameo,
The United States of America,
The Names,
Joe Smooth,
Dead Boys,
Mr. Review,
Tommy Roe,
Iggy Pop,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Machine,
Goldenarms,
Judy Mowatt,
Mission of Burma,
T.S.O.L.,
Lee Hazlewood,
Peter and Kerry,
Harry Pussy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Von Mondo,
The Barracudas,
Brick,
Radiohead,
DJ Style,
Albert Ayler,
Massinfluence,
Pierre Henry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fela Kuti,
The Searchers,
Maurizio,
the Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
The Dirtbombs,
the Slits,
The Mojo Men,
World's Most,
ABC,
Guru Guru,
Matthew Halsall,
Infiniti,
Sparks,
The Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Remains,
Black Bananas,
Fatback Band,
The Doors,
Peter & Gordon,
Depeche Mode,
Roy Ayers,
Little Man,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pagans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.