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 Chad and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Khruangbin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Charles Mingus,
Bronski Beat,
Porter Ricks,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magazine,
Monks,
Dave Gahan,
The Seeds,
Sister Nancy,
Anakelly,
The Saints,
Procol Harum,
Pussy Galore,
China Crisis,
Pulsallama,
Subhumans,
Excepter,
Leonard Cohen,
Scan 7,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
Saccharine Trust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Skatalites,
the Bar-Kays,
Swell Maps,
Radio Birdman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Ultravox,
Goldenarms,
Q and Not U,
Yellowson,
Erasure,
Adolescents,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mantronix,
Maurizio,
Jacob Miller,
Clear Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
the Soft Cell,
Scion,
Von Mondo,
Amazonics,
Oblivians,
Con Funk Shun,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Heaven 17,
David Bowie,
Arcadia,
Can,
Rekid,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New York Dolls,
Little Man,
Monolake,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.