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 Hungary and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron 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 Sparks to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Minny Pops,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yaz,
June Days,
Crispy Ambulance,
Public Enemy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Green,
Soulsonic Force,
Kevin Saunderson,
Depeche Mode,
Sonic Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Au Pairs,
Steve Hackett,
Organ,
The Cure,
Michelle Simonal,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Intrusion,
Q and Not U,
Liliput,
Tres Demented,
The United States of America,
The Cowsills,
Dennis Brown,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Magma,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Altered Images,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Busters,
The American Breed,
Sound Behaviour,
The Alarm Clocks,
Prince Buster,
Drexciya,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fall,
Aural Exciters,
Pussy Galore,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Wyatt,
Sun Ra,
Magazine,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Zapp,
This Heat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Quando Quango,
Gichy Dan,
Absolute Body Control,
Grauzone,
It's A Beautiful Day,
48th St. Collective,
Gang of Four,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers,
Dave Gahan,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.