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 South Sudan and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare 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 The Shadows of Knight to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Moon,
Television,
La Düsseldorf,
Girls At Our Best!,
Au Pairs,
Davy DMX,
Moss Icon,
The Moody Blues,
Boz Scaggs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Pussy Galore,
Sight & Sound,
Funky Four + One,
Average White Band,
The Techniques,
Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cecil Taylor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Slits,
Pierre Henry,
Rod Modell,
Hoover,
The Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Yusef Lateef,
Livin' Joy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Sheep,
Dave Gahan,
The Fire Engines,
CMW,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxy Music,
Alphaville,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blackbyrds,
Soulsonic Force,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-Ray Spex,
the Swans,
The Leaves,
Don Cherry,
The Fall,
Angry Samoans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Visage,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
The Victims,
Niagra,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.