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 Honduras and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Moby Grape to the grunge 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Interpol,
Nik Kershaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lou Reed,
Lou Christie,
Visage,
China Crisis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
EPMD,
Lalo Schifrin,
Outsiders,
The Busters,
Morten Harket,
The Mummies,
The Leaves,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Grass Roots,
F. McDonald,
MC5,
The Knickerbockers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Liliput,
Joe Smooth,
H. Thieme,
Moss Icon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers,
Brick,
Dual Sessions,
Pussy Galore,
the Soft Cell,
Roxy Music,
Icehouse,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Urselle,
Parry Music,
Pere Ubu,
James White and The Blacks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pagans,
OOIOO,
The Gories,
The Invisible,
Barry Ungar,
Joyce Sims,
The Saints,
Ornette Coleman,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eve St. Jones,
Charles Mingus,
Television Personalities,
Theoretical Girls,
KRS-One,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.