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 Colombia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes 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 T.S.O.L. to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Tommy Roe,
Todd Terry,
The Toasters,
Technova,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dead C,
DNA,
Radio Birdman,
The Human League,
The Gun Club,
Pulsallama,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Junior Murvin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Silicon Teens,
Dark Day,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Star Department,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spandau Ballet,
Sun City Girls,
Ten City,
Kaleidoscope,
The Victims,
Q65,
Eric Dolphy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Blancmange,
Rites of Spring,
Second Layer,
Blossom Toes,
Groovy Waters,
Roxette,
Easy Going,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tim Buckley,
Connie Case,
Quadrant,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry's Kids,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stereo Dub,
UT,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Janne Schatter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Outsiders,
Slick Rick,
E-Dancer,
Leonard Cohen,
Swans,
Carl Craig,
June of 44,
The Misunderstood,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.