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 Dominican Republic and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
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 mellotron 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 Circle Jerks 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Kas Product,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Human League,
Idris Muhammad,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tim Buckley,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lucky Dragons,
New York Dolls,
Dual Sessions,
X-Ray Spex,
Bad Manners,
Anthony Braxton,
Aural Exciters,
Kerri Chandler,
ABC,
Anakelly,
Bob Dylan,
Peter and Kerry,
Spoonie Gee,
The Barracudas,
OOIOO,
Zapp,
R.M.O.,
Dark Day,
New Age Steppers,
The Star Department,
Arthur Verocai,
10cc,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
The Gladiators,
Rotary Connection,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Archie Shepp,
Rapeman,
Smog,
The Shadows of Knight,
Outsiders,
Lou Christie,
Charles Mingus,
Howard Jones,
Echospace,
Pere Ubu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barry Ungar,
Minor Threat,
The Invisible,
Gastr Del Sol,
Procol Harum,
Rites of Spring,
Amon Düül,
Quando Quango,
Joe Smooth,
Ossler,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.