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 Cuba and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Faraquet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gladiators,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Finger,
The Black Dice,
These Immortal Souls,
The Walker Brothers,
Severed Heads,
Can,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Cale,
Deakin,
The Trojans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oblivians,
Electric Prunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sound,
Fat Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eddi Front,
Faraquet,
Fluxion,
Second Layer,
Cluster,
Gastr Del Sol,
New York Dolls,
The Smiths,
Bobby Byrd,
Popol Vuh,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
Neu!,
One Last Wish,
Schoolly D,
Ohio Players,
The Martian,
Livin' Joy,
The American Breed,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Knickerbockers,
Half Japanese,
CMW,
The Invisible,
Scott Walker,
Rosa Yemen,
Derrick May,
Nick Fraelich,
Royal Trux,
Smog,
Laurel Aitken,
Skarface,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Urselle,
Cameo,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed,
Silicon Teens,
Deadbeat,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.