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 Philippines and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Unrelated Segments to the jazz 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Fatback Band,
The Fugs,
Joey Negro,
Skaos,
Slave,
Ludus,
The Cowsills,
Ultravox,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Names,
Model 500,
Jacques Brel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Janne Schatter,
Morten Harket,
Blancmange,
World's Most,
Fad Gadget,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Albert Ayler,
Lindisfarne,
Heaven 17,
The Five Americans,
The Dead C,
Rufus Thomas,
Adolescents,
The Stooges,
The Trojans,
Yazoo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Animal Collective,
Marmalade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Mills,
Zapp,
Lucky Dragons,
Sister Nancy,
Nik Kershaw,
Skriet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Duran Duran,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
MDC,
Andrew Hill,
Supertramp,
Infiniti,
Drexciya,
The Fire Engines,
Buzzcocks,
The Slits,
Fear,
Interpol,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Christie,
CMW,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Agent Orange,
Alison Limerick,
The Grass Roots,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.