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 Malta and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 Average White Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Japan,
Minnie Riperton,
Wire,
Ultra Naté,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Gabor Szabo,
Harmonia,
The Standells,
The Fugs,
Sex Pistols,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Lynne,
Grey Daturas,
Eric B and Rakim,
David Axelrod,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sarah Menescal,
Letta Mbulu,
Nico,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Iggy Pop,
Dark Day,
Clear Light,
Toni Rubio,
The Toasters,
The Blues Magoos,
Warsaw,
Bush Tetras,
Cameo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Index,
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues,
The Dead C,
Mars,
Mission of Burma,
Morten Harket,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Bananas,
Agitation Free,
La Düsseldorf,
Glenn Branca,
June Days,
Flipper,
Marine Girls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Names,
Vainqueur,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
Television,
Khruangbin,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.