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 Bhutan and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
The Divine Comedy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dead C,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Livin' Joy,
Maleditus Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alison Limerick,
The Index,
The Stooges,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camouflage,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jimmy McGriff,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Cale,
Boz Scaggs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Peter & Gordon,
June of 44,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
The Red Krayola,
Bad Manners,
Adolescents,
The Angels of Light,
World's Most,
Godley & Creme,
Siglo XX,
Aaron Thompson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rekid,
Harmonia,
Jerry's Kids,
Scan 7,
Ponytail,
Iggy Pop,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mo-Dettes,
Swans,
Blossom Toes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Masters at Work,
Motorama,
Cameo,
Radio Birdman,
Matthew Halsall,
Dave Gahan,
Nik Kershaw,
Tim Buckley,
Marvin Gaye,
The Move,
Toni Rubio,
Scientists,
Slick Rick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Make Up,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.