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 Luxembourg and from Lyon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Q65 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Certain Ratio,
Malaria!,
Yusef Lateef,
Los Fastidios,
Dead Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
Brass Construction,
MC5,
The Motions,
Zapp,
Section 25,
Delon & Dalcan,
Underground Resistance,
Public Enemy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
cv313,
Boredoms,
Arab on Radar,
Frankie Knuckles,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rites of Spring,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gories,
DJ Style,
The Happenings,
Mad Mike,
Faraquet,
Bill Wells,
Tears for Fears,
Flipper,
X-101,
The Fuzztones,
The United States of America,
Bobby Sherman,
Little Man,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joy Division,
Janne Schatter,
Mr. Review,
Excepter,
Yellowson,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Moon,
Leonard Cohen,
Crash Course in Science,
Wire,
The Selecter,
Laurel Aitken,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantaleimon,
The Raincoats,
Erykah Badu,
Eve St. Jones,
Suicide,
The Smiths,
The Litter,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.