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 Lebanon and from Lyon.
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 Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mr. Review,
Hoover,
Matthew Halsall,
Nils Olav,
Todd Rundgren,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Womack,
The Associates,
ABBA,
Soft Machine,
Masters at Work,
The Martian,
The Smiths,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-Ray Spex,
Young Marble Giants,
Marine Girls,
Von Mondo,
The Evens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Sonics,
Kerri Chandler,
Maurizio,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Misunderstood,
Joyce Sims,
a-ha,
Ohio Players,
Mars,
Gang of Four,
Jandek,
Jacques Brel,
Procol Harum,
Leonard Cohen,
Susan Cadogan,
Nick Fraelich,
Ludus,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
The Divine Comedy,
Vladislav Delay,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angry Samoans,
Severed Heads,
John Foxx,
Bootsy Collins,
Warsaw,
cv313,
Lalann,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skarface,
The Fugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Pretty Things,
The Tremeloes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roxy Music,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.