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 Honduras and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marine Girls to the jazz 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fuzztones,
John Lydon,
R.M.O.,
The Birthday Party,
Joyce Sims,
David McCallum,
Susan Cadogan,
Tim Buckley,
Ludus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Electric Prunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Masters at Work,
Stereo Dub,
Clear Light,
Max Romeo,
Make Up,
Nas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gang Starr,
The Barracudas,
Electric Prunes,
Magma,
Rites of Spring,
Pierre Henry,
John Foxx,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lungfish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tres Demented,
Anthony Braxton,
The Gories,
Patti Smith,
The Durutti Column,
Ornette Coleman,
Matthew Bourne,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quadrant,
The Skatalites,
Deakin,
John Cale,
Be Bop Deluxe,
10cc,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
Heaven 17,
In Retrospect,
Alphaville,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rekid,
Cal Tjader,
The Stooges,
The Neon Judgement,
Von Mondo,
Bronski Beat,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.