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 Ireland and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Curtis Mayfield,
Colin Newman,
Severed Heads,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cal Tjader,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Durutti Column,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ludus,
Agent Orange,
Pere Ubu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Organ,
OOIOO,
L. Decosne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jacques Brel,
Eden Ahbez,
Fear,
Pantaleimon,
Parry Music,
Wasted Youth,
Oneida,
MC5,
The Busters,
Mo-Dettes,
Wally Richardson,
D'Angelo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moss Icon,
Man Eating Sloth,
kango's stein massive,
Goldenarms,
Duran Duran,
The Motions,
Royal Trux,
Roy Ayers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lalann,
Erasure,
Simply Red,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
X-101,
Kerri Chandler,
Nas,
Robert Görl,
Von Mondo,
Laurel Aitken,
Q and Not U,
Joy Division,
The Stooges,
The Residents,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.