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 Korea South and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Tears for Fears to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Gang Green,
Pere Ubu,
Roger Hodgson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Japan,
Blake Baxter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Wake,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
Fat Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skriet,
Todd Rundgren,
The Smoke,
Andrew Hill,
Jacques Brel,
Loose Ends,
The Busters,
Scrapy,
The Sonics,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
The Searchers,
Altered Images,
T.S.O.L.,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mummies,
Ohio Players,
Suicide,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Moebius,
Alton Ellis,
Faust,
Animal Collective,
Brass Construction,
Roxy Music,
Gang Gang Dance,
Faraquet,
Matthew Halsall,
Q65,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neil Young,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crime,
Visage,
Donny Hathaway,
Mad Mike,
Ornette Coleman,
Clear Light,
China Crisis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wasted Youth,
Supertramp,
KRS-One,
Crash Course in Science,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.