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 Comoros and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 Todd Rundgren to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Public Enemy,
Reagan Youth,
The Moody Blues,
Slick Rick,
One Last Wish,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Swell Maps,
Lucky Dragons,
Fela Kuti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slackers,
The Skatalites,
Brothers Johnson,
Thompson Twins,
Pole,
Peter & Gordon,
Nick Fraelich,
Fugazi,
The United States of America,
Popol Vuh,
Danielle Patucci,
Mantronix,
Joe Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
The Human League,
Lou Christie,
Sam Rivers,
Circle Jerks,
Hot Snakes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Simply Red,
Rekid,
Quando Quango,
The Saints,
Gastr Del Sol,
Essential Logic,
Joy Division,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
The Music Machine,
FM Einheit,
Skarface,
Pussy Galore,
Lyres,
Funky Four + One,
Crispy Ambulance,
World's Most,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harmonia,
Stetsasonic,
Subhumans,
The Star Department,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.