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 Liberia and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Los Fastidios to the dance 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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Hasil Adkins,
Hashim,
Joensuu 1685,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Suicide,
The Saints,
Glambeats Corp.,
These Immortal Souls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Byrd,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Skriet,
Second Layer,
B.T. Express,
Cybotron,
Arcadia,
AZ,
Livin' Joy,
The Monks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Saccharine Trust,
Maurizio,
Yellowson,
Chrome,
The Invisible,
Sun Ra,
Skaos,
Japan,
Freddie Wadling,
Terry Callier,
Monks,
The Sonics,
Scientists,
Kerri Chandler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chris Corsano,
The New Christs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echospace,
Steve Hackett,
Todd Terry,
Youth Brigade,
Tommy Roe,
R.M.O.,
Faust,
The Dave Clark Five,
H. Thieme,
Yazoo,
Panda Bear,
Q65,
Yusef Lateef,
John Holt,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Electric Prunes,
The Smiths,
Wally Richardson,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.