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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Junior Murvin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Toni Rubio,
Fear,
Skaos,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dual Sessions,
Wings,
Lindisfarne,
Boz Scaggs,
Slick Rick,
Fatback Band,
EPMD,
Wire,
Eden Ahbez,
These Immortal Souls,
Nils Olav,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Eating Sloth,
Newcleus,
Shuggie Otis,
The Shadows of Knight,
OOIOO,
The J.B.'s,
Cecil Taylor,
Infiniti,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
Blake Baxter,
Dead Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Judy Mowatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Five Americans,
Todd Rundgren,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
Kerri Chandler,
Khruangbin,
KRS-One,
Roy Ayers,
the Human League,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zapp,
Joyce Sims,
the Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Slave,
Bluetip,
PIL,
Ponytail,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sugar Minott,
Marcia Griffiths,
La Düsseldorf,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.