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 Pakistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pet Shop Boys to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Excepter,
Scion,
K-Klass,
Ken Boothe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bauhaus,
Yazoo,
Echospace,
A Certain Ratio,
Charles Mingus,
Ten City,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Wyatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Infiniti,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Fad Gadget,
Clear Light,
EPMD,
The Remains,
Gabor Szabo,
The Buckinghams,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dead Boys,
Ossler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Names,
Yaz,
Japan,
Davy DMX,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Velvet Underground,
Nils Olav,
The Golliwogs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Fela Kuti,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pere Ubu,
Ituana,
H. Thieme,
Wasted Youth,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
John Foxx,
The Cure,
The Raincoats,
Lindisfarne,
Lungfish,
Surgeon,
ABBA,
Alice Coltrane,
Crime,
Moebius,
Guru Guru,
LL Cool J,
Johnny Clarke,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.