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 Comoros and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Mummies to the jazz 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Toni Rubio,
Stetsasonic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Unwound,
This Heat,
The Moody Blues,
The Victims,
The Litter,
Robert Wyatt,
Aural Exciters,
Ronnie Foster,
The Doors,
UT,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Pus,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Byrd,
a-ha,
Stiv Bators,
The Monks,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy Collins,
Fat Boys,
The Gories,
Ituana,
The Blues Magoos,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rhythm & Sound,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
Juan Atkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Gong,
The Misunderstood,
Roxy Music,
Bang On A Can,
Kurtis Blow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boredoms,
Shoche,
Clear Light,
Goldenarms,
Television,
Peter & Gordon,
Sex Pistols,
The Leaves,
The Raincoats,
Charles Mingus,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
Bob Dylan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alice Coltrane,
Deakin,
Matthew Bourne,
Hoover,
The Neon Judgement,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Fire Engines,
The Motions,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.