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 Spain 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Main Source,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ludus,
The Moleskins,
Television,
Kayak,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joey Negro,
The Toasters,
a-ha,
B.T. Express,
Panda Bear,
Tommy Roe,
Babytalk,
T. Rex,
Prince Buster,
The Skatalites,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Negative Approach,
Nils Olav,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grauzone,
Soulsonic Force,
Minutemen,
Zapp,
The Tremeloes,
Country Teasers,
Altered Images,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Parry Music,
The Seeds,
Little Man,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Zero Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Albert Ayler,
Faraquet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Masters at Work,
The Names,
Vainqueur,
Easy Going,
Desert Stars,
The Human League,
Bobby Sherman,
The Sonics,
Public Enemy,
The Fortunes,
Nik Kershaw,
World's Most,
Sun Ra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Mummies,
Susan Cadogan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.