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 Latvia and from Bologna.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Von Mondo to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Electric Prunes,
Dead Boys,
Chrome,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultra Naté,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marmalade,
Nils Olav,
Animal Collective,
Moby Grape,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Franke,
Hashim,
The Neon Judgement,
Joe Finger,
Buzzcocks,
Pole,
The Gories,
Lungfish,
Leonard Cohen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Beau Brummels,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bronski Beat,
Gang of Four,
Cecil Taylor,
FM Einheit,
Television Personalities,
Lakeside,
The Alarm Clocks,
Janne Schatter,
Black Pus,
Todd Terry,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yusef Lateef,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Public Enemy,
Robert Wyatt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scott Walker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
The Kinks,
K-Klass,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Busters,
B.T. Express,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tubeway Army,
Shuggie Otis,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.