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 Burundi and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba 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 Don Cherry to the crunk 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacob Miller,
Minnie Riperton,
Yusef Lateef,
Marmalade,
Au Pairs,
The Black Dice,
Rufus Thomas,
Rod Modell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Trojans,
Angry Samoans,
CMW,
The Cowsills,
Kas Product,
Todd Rundgren,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Techniques,
Malaria!,
Negative Approach,
Tomorrow,
Stiv Bators,
U.S. Maple,
Patti Smith,
The Busters,
Subhumans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric Copeland,
Essential Logic,
Lakeside,
Underground Resistance,
Symarip,
MC5,
Organ,
Mark Hollis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roxette,
Niagra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cure,
Pylon,
Althea and Donna,
Hoover,
Lebanon Hanover,
Duran Duran,
Tommy Roe,
Clear Light,
Rotary Connection,
AZ,
The Beau Brummels,
The Residents,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gap Band,
The Birthday Party,
Funkadelic,
Hasil Adkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.