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 Slovakia and from Lagos.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 48th St. Collective to the rock 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Black Bananas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
the Bar-Kays,
Soul II Soul,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arcadia,
Pylon,
Ronan,
The Moleskins,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Tremeloes,
Quantec,
Toni Rubio,
Stereo Dub,
Bizarre Inc.,
Technova,
The Gun Club,
The Searchers,
Joy Division,
Eden Ahbez,
The Blackbyrds,
Morten Harket,
Robert Hood,
Rites of Spring,
Jeff Mills,
Wire,
Derrick Morgan,
The Five Americans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Real Kids,
Reagan Youth,
Dead Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Eric Copeland,
Chris & Cosey,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Half Japanese,
The Gories,
Jandek,
ABBA,
The Fortunes,
Shoche,
Ken Boothe,
Gichy Dan,
Bad Manners,
The Stooges,
London Community Gospel Choir,
PIL,
AZ,
Isaac Hayes,
Neu!,
Section 25,
Visage,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Slave,
Moby Grape,
Eurythmics,
OOIOO,
Black Pus,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.