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 Mauritius and from Milan.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Fear to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Black Moon,
Mo-Dettes,
Au Pairs,
OOIOO,
Surgeon,
Mark Hollis,
Ice-T,
E-Dancer,
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Hill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Saints,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Techniques,
New York Dolls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Von Mondo,
The Real Kids,
Pagans,
Ludus,
Saccharine Trust,
Essential Logic,
Faraquet,
Swans,
Man Parrish,
June of 44,
Anakelly,
Dawn Penn,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
Matthew Bourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Marine Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Red Krayola,
Echospace,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-101,
Television,
Isaac Hayes,
Nik Kershaw,
Crime,
The Misunderstood,
Carl Craig,
The Busters,
Jerry's Kids,
Country Teasers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
In Retrospect,
Thee Headcoats,
Donald Byrd,
Blossom Toes,
Make Up,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gang of Four,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cowsills,
Dead Boys,
Loose Ends,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.