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 Rwanda and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
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 sitar 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 Drexciya to the funk 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Procol Harum,
Steve Hackett,
Deadbeat,
Dennis Brown,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
James White and The Blacks,
Suicide,
Suburban Knight,
Dawn Penn,
D'Angelo,
Mandrill,
Guru Guru,
MDC,
Rites of Spring,
Urselle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minor Threat,
Ronan,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans,
Average White Band,
Zapp,
The Remains,
Monks,
Lyres,
Black Moon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scott Walker,
DJ Style,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Organ,
Chrome,
Ossler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Public Enemy,
Country Teasers,
June of 44,
The Cowsills,
June Days,
Funky Four + One,
Yaz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Maurizio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Görl,
Visage,
Japan,
The Five Americans,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
Zero Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Ten City,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.