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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Oneida to the grunge 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lungfish,
X-Ray Spex,
Tubeway Army,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crash Course in Science,
Zero Boys,
The Searchers,
Connie Case,
The Velvet Underground,
Hardrive,
Warsaw,
Janne Schatter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eurythmics,
Bill Wells,
Camberwell Now,
Danielle Patucci,
Mandrill,
Eddi Front,
Byron Stingily,
Roxy Music,
Tres Demented,
the Germs,
Livin' Joy,
Blake Baxter,
Angry Samoans,
Scientists,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Reuben Wilson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wings,
Ohio Players,
Black Sheep,
Banda Bassotti,
Scott Walker,
Gastr Del Sol,
T. Rex,
Little Man,
The Fuzztones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lucky Dragons,
Piero Umiliani,
Lyres,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Slits,
LL Cool J,
Kas Product,
Ronan,
DJ Style,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rod Modell,
Y Pants,
Charles Mingus,
Chris & Cosey,
The Saints,
Cecil Taylor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Excepter,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.