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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Lagos.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Foxx to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Au Pairs,
The Blackbyrds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Patti Smith,
Wings,
ABBA,
Brothers Johnson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
These Immortal Souls,
Dark Day,
Amazonics,
Mad Mike,
Technova,
The Names,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radiohead,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Arcadia,
Sly & The Family Stone,
R.M.O.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yusef Lateef,
Ken Boothe,
Excepter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quantec,
Kayak,
Blake Baxter,
A Certain Ratio,
Lakeside,
Eric B and Rakim,
Livin' Joy,
The Dirtbombs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Magma,
The Kinks,
The Pop Group,
The Offenders,
the Slits,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
Motorama,
The Knickerbockers,
Chrome,
Absolute Body Control,
Angry Samoans,
Judy Mowatt,
Depeche Mode,
Vainqueur,
Marcia Griffiths,
Thompson Twins,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.