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 New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Faraquet to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pulsallama,
T.S.O.L.,
Letta Mbulu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Matthew Bourne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Style,
Cameo,
Dead Boys,
Henry Cow,
Nik Kershaw,
Kaleidoscope,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mr. Review,
Skaos,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Michelle Simonal,
The Red Krayola,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Faraquet,
Donny Hathaway,
the Germs,
Circle Jerks,
Boredoms,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Suburban Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
Ten City,
Thee Headcoats,
Mandrill,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jesper Dahlback,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Interpol,
Guru Guru,
Accadde A,
Saccharine Trust,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Make Up,
Sun Ra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Cell,
Scion,
Jeff Lynne,
Tears for Fears,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Black Dice,
D'Angelo,
Faust,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.