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 Sweden 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Eurythmics to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
Lou Christie,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
Jandek,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gun Club,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Chris & Cosey,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sarah Menescal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mark Hollis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smoke,
Nas,
Clear Light,
Ohio Players,
Danielle Patucci,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radio Birdman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Starr,
the Association,
Aural Exciters,
Wolf Eyes,
Stiv Bators,
The Litter,
Quando Quango,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Victims,
Judy Mowatt,
Swell Maps,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Derrick May,
The Remains,
Slick Rick,
Bob Dylan,
Schoolly D,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soft Machine,
In Retrospect,
Make Up,
the Normal,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deepchord,
Reuben Wilson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q and Not U,
Black Bananas,
Crooked Eye,
The Count Five,
Country Teasers,
The Names,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.