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 Morocco and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Holger Czukay 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 Divine Comedy to the funk 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erykah Badu,
The Fire Engines,
June of 44,
Television,
Talk Talk,
Von Mondo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Techniques,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
Joensuu 1685,
Siglo XX,
Radio Birdman,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fat Boys,
Quantec,
the Human League,
Mission of Burma,
L. Decosne,
The Zeros,
DNA,
Buzzcocks,
Kas Product,
Los Fastidios,
Loose Ends,
The J.B.'s,
F. McDonald,
Sugar Minott,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cowsills,
The Tremeloes,
James White and The Blacks,
Severed Heads,
Marcia Griffiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Birthday Party,
Echospace,
Icehouse,
The Seeds,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scientists,
Pylon,
Desert Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Five Americans,
The Leaves,
Derrick May,
Black Bananas,
Amon Düül,
Cameo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moebius,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marshall Jefferson,
Patti Smith,
Gang Starr,
Sandy B,
Fear,
The Cure,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.