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 Suriname and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Con Funk Shun to the punk 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Donny Hathaway,
Gabor Szabo,
Saccharine Trust,
Japan,
Outsiders,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Count Five,
The American Breed,
Kenny Larkin,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Howard Jones,
The Birthday Party,
Scientists,
Absolute Body Control,
Slave,
Deepchord,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Goldenarms,
The Buckinghams,
a-ha,
Motorama,
Faust,
Urselle,
Flash Fearless,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Johnny Clarke,
John Lydon,
Eve St. Jones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Music Machine,
Country Teasers,
Make Up,
Rekid,
The Stooges,
Radiohead,
Moebius,
LL Cool J,
Supertramp,
Alton Ellis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cybotron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Negative Approach,
Janne Schatter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Görl,
The Doors,
PIL,
Funkadelic,
Brothers Johnson,
Kurtis Blow,
Darondo,
Pagans,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.