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 Tuvalu and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Red Krayola to the grunge 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Byron Stingily,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Colin Newman,
Radio Birdman,
Albert Ayler,
The Music Machine,
Al Stewart,
Lalo Schifrin,
Davy DMX,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Moon,
The Invisible,
The Motions,
Fear,
Oneida,
The Kinks,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ohio Players,
Tubeway Army,
The Electric Prunes,
Alice Coltrane,
Neu!,
Althea and Donna,
Surgeon,
The Gun Club,
Negative Approach,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gap Band,
The Vogues,
Gabor Szabo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fat Boys,
E-Dancer,
Theoretical Girls,
Lower 48,
John Cale,
cv313,
Ultra Naté,
Sam Rivers,
Sight & Sound,
Black Pus,
The Happenings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moebius,
Robert Görl,
Trumans Water,
Dennis Brown,
Main Source,
The Moleskins,
The Names,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang of Four,
Groovy Waters,
The Saints,
The Sound,
Warsaw,
DNA,
Unrelated Segments,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.