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 Namibia 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultra Naté to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
DJ Sneak,
Hot Snakes,
Camouflage,
Ornette Coleman,
Minor Threat,
Cecil Taylor,
Skarface,
The Fall,
Chrome,
Henry Cow,
Yaz,
The Angels of Light,
The Kinks,
The Invisible,
The Trojans,
The Star Department,
Stetsasonic,
Magma,
Fela Kuti,
Scrapy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sugar Minott,
The Move,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oneida,
Harpers Bizarre,
B.T. Express,
Sam Rivers,
Sparks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry's Kids,
The Seeds,
Suicide,
The Count Five,
The Smoke,
Fluxion,
Lalann,
Hasil Adkins,
World's Most,
Gang Green,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lyres,
The Offenders,
KRS-One,
The Monochrome Set,
Toni Rubio,
The Toasters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Leaves,
The Gun Club,
Lou Christie,
Althea and Donna,
Talk Talk,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Holt,
Absolute Body Control,
Chris Corsano,
The United States of America,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.