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 Estonia and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rosa Yemen 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Tommy Roe,
The Smiths,
Bill Near,
The Offenders,
The Doors,
Andrew Hill,
Scratch Acid,
Wally Richardson,
Camouflage,
Pussy Galore,
Icehouse,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Sheep,
MC5,
Moby Grape,
Shoche,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalo Schifrin,
Technova,
Intrusion,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grauzone,
Sun Ra,
Masters at Work,
Rhythm & Sound,
Swell Maps,
Bill Wells,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sight & Sound,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Janne Schatter,
Pantaleimon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soul II Soul,
Bronski Beat,
The Motions,
The Alarm Clocks,
Archie Shepp,
The Dirtbombs,
La Düsseldorf,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Second Layer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tubeway Army,
The Golliwogs,
Wasted Youth,
Panda Bear,
Visage,
Quadrant,
Mantronix,
John Lydon,
Scrapy,
New Order,
Gong,
The Dead C,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.