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 Netherlands and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Rosa Yemen,
Masters at Work,
The Blues Magoos,
Organ,
Smog,
Matthew Halsall,
Pantaleimon,
ABBA,
Procol Harum,
the Swans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Bananas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sandy B,
Wolf Eyes,
Bang On A Can,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thompson Twins,
Black Flag,
Nation of Ulysses,
K-Klass,
Ultimate Spinach,
Toni Rubio,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Modern Lovers,
the Bar-Kays,
Franke,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bad Manners,
The Gladiators,
Index,
Avey Tare,
Rapeman,
Faraquet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Index,
The Gories,
UT,
Eli Mardock,
Hot Snakes,
The Fuzztones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chrome,
cv313,
Depeche Mode,
Erykah Badu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flash Fearless,
Max Romeo,
Mars,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.