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 Lithuania and from Manila.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Dead C to the punk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Scratch Acid,
Dave Gahan,
Joyce Sims,
Sight & Sound,
Royal Trux,
Maleditus Sound,
David McCallum,
Sugar Minott,
Fela Kuti,
Funky Four + One,
Rekid,
8 Eyed Spy,
Warsaw,
The Buckinghams,
Half Japanese,
Skaos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Arab on Radar,
Little Man,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Magazine,
Kaleidoscope,
Public Image Ltd.,
Althea and Donna,
Rufus Thomas,
the Germs,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
The Skatalites,
Reagan Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxette,
Brothers Johnson,
Judy Mowatt,
Main Source,
Toni Rubio,
The Real Kids,
Barrington Levy,
World's Most,
Rosa Yemen,
Cecil Taylor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dawn Penn,
Livin' Joy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bootsy Collins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Remains,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shoche,
Isaac Hayes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Toasters,
cv313,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.