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 Tajikistan and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar 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 Fatback Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Leaves,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Black Dice,
The Monks,
Howard Jones,
Brick,
The Slits,
Robert Görl,
Kenny Larkin,
Skarface,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
KRS-One,
Cameo,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun Ra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Average White Band,
John Lydon,
These Immortal Souls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Popol Vuh,
Q65,
The Tremeloes,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Matthew Bourne,
Todd Rundgren,
Colin Newman,
Amon Düül,
Lalann,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fluxion,
Blancmange,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed,
Harry Pussy,
Swell Maps,
Boredoms,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Barracudas,
Kurtis Blow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bad Manners,
Robert Hood,
In Retrospect,
The Cowsills,
Arcadia,
Wolf Eyes,
Yazoo,
Shoche,
The Music Machine,
Albert Ayler,
Silicon Teens,
Pole,
The Skatalites,
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.