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 Lesotho and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sound Behaviour to the rap 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Negative Approach,
Tres Demented,
Anakelly,
Oblivians,
The Dirtbombs,
The Smiths,
Sight & Sound,
Das Ding,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Offenders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Pylon,
Barbara Tucker,
Zapp,
Cybotron,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fortunes,
Mars,
Moebius,
Spandau Ballet,
Urselle,
Rapeman,
Thee Headcoats,
Moss Icon,
Niagra,
Delta 5,
The Red Krayola,
Radio Birdman,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Sherman,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Trojans,
Wings,
The Litter,
John Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Interpol,
The Beau Brummels,
Flamin' Groovies,
JFA,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monks,
Eurythmics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Drexciya,
The Grass Roots,
T.S.O.L.,
The Human League,
Suburban Knight,
Donny Hathaway,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Funky Four + One,
Gerry Rafferty,
Japan,
Graham Central Station,
Visage,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.