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 Chile and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Tears for Fears to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Howard Jones,
Eve St. Jones,
New Order,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Monks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Schoolly D,
Reuben Wilson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Main Source,
Hasil Adkins,
OOIOO,
James White and The Blacks,
Fugazi,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cure,
Gang Starr,
Patti Smith,
Oblivians,
Simply Red,
Roxette,
Mr. Review,
The Red Krayola,
Royal Trux,
Pantytec,
Sandy B,
Amon Düül,
The Offenders,
Joe Finger,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
The United States of America,
Pussy Galore,
Johnny Osbourne,
Au Pairs,
Slave,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Erasure,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Kinks,
Roxy Music,
The Beau Brummels,
The Doobie Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ohio Players,
Procol Harum,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Neon Judgement,
The Invisible,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-101,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Bar-Kays,
Ossler,
Radio Birdman,
The Sonics,
Swell Maps,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crime,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.