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 Laos and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pole to the electroclash 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Minny Pops,
Stetsasonic,
Sam Rivers,
Funkadelic,
Grey Daturas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
D'Angelo,
Sonic Youth,
Mad Mike,
Lower 48,
Niagra,
Ultravox,
Barbara Tucker,
Clear Light,
Hot Snakes,
Chris & Cosey,
Crooked Eye,
Das Ding,
Pussy Galore,
Qualms,
Nils Olav,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Knickerbockers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
LL Cool J,
Soft Machine,
The Mummies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Steve Hackett,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Names,
Amazonics,
The New Christs,
Youth Brigade,
Brand Nubian,
The Human League,
Dead Boys,
The Toasters,
Skriet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brick,
Marvin Gaye,
T. Rex,
AZ,
Kurtis Blow,
the Fania All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Peter and Kerry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones,
Zapp,
Byron Stingily,
Erasure,
Fat Boys,
Janne Schatter,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.