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 Samoa and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ralphi Rosario to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Star Department,
Little Man,
The Trojans,
The Dirtbombs,
Skaos,
The Monks,
Monks,
The Gladiators,
Gang Gang Dance,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Royal Trux,
Trumans Water,
The Gories,
Lightning Bolt,
AZ,
the Bar-Kays,
Ludus,
the Soft Cell,
Pylon,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
a-ha,
The Neon Judgement,
Von Mondo,
Urselle,
Yazoo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sex Pistols,
Mark Hollis,
One Last Wish,
Gang Starr,
Jeff Mills,
CMW,
Sight & Sound,
cv313,
Camberwell Now,
Alison Limerick,
Mr. Review,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Warren Ellis,
The Skatalites,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sound,
Nirvana,
the Sonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rekid,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fat Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
June of 44,
Junior Murvin,
Hardrive,
Nico,
Jeru the Damaja,
Matthew Halsall,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cowsills,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.