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 Botswana and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ronnie Foster 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Mo-Dettes,
Sparks,
A Certain Ratio,
Oneida,
Aural Exciters,
Donald Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Amazonics,
Franke,
Lou Christie,
Albert Ayler,
Tubeway Army,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flamin' Groovies,
Magazine,
Surgeon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Gang Dance,
Panda Bear,
The Divine Comedy,
The Moody Blues,
Agent Orange,
The Walker Brothers,
Public Enemy,
Circle Jerks,
Ultravox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bizarre Inc.,
Procol Harum,
New Age Steppers,
Interpol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kerrie Biddell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang of Four,
the Bar-Kays,
Roxy Music,
Cal Tjader,
The Busters,
New Order,
Sister Nancy,
Agitation Free,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stetsasonic,
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monolake,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Soft Cell,
Adolescents,
Mission of Burma,
Yellowson,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
The J.B.'s,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.