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 Venezuela and from Woodstock.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Erykah Badu to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Black Moon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sonic Youth,
Wasted Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
Henry Cow,
Sandy B,
Lou Christie,
Donny Hathaway,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angry Samoans,
The Star Department,
Quadrant,
the Human League,
Bob Dylan,
Sugar Minott,
Kerri Chandler,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The New Christs,
Dawn Penn,
PIL,
Essential Logic,
Basic Channel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Deakin,
Joe Finger,
Silicon Teens,
Circle Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Porter Ricks,
Erykah Badu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Sonics,
The Move,
Bobby Sherman,
X-101,
Nas,
Amazonics,
The Modern Lovers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alison Limerick,
Hoover,
Minnie Riperton,
Wings,
Anakelly,
Todd Rundgren,
Dead Boys,
Icehouse,
New Age Steppers,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.