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 Korea South and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
Rosa Yemen,
Glenn Branca,
Simply Red,
Alice Coltrane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Al Stewart,
Excepter,
Ultravox,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Quantec,
the Soft Cell,
Can,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Remains,
The Cramps,
Letta Mbulu,
Sex Pistols,
Surgeon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gories,
Desert Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
James White and The Blacks,
Ossler,
Wolf Eyes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Moleskins,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
K-Klass,
Lou Christie,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
Siglo XX,
Urselle,
The Velvet Underground,
Altered Images,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aloha Tigers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eli Mardock,
Scion,
Tubeway Army,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Young Rascals,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Michelle Simonal,
Flash Fearless,
Archie Shepp,
Amazonics,
Ronnie Foster,
Banda Bassotti,
Quando Quango,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.