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 Niger and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Misunderstood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Whodini,
Freddie Wadling,
Dual Sessions,
Eve St. Jones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bob Dylan,
Steve Hackett,
Godley & Creme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cameo,
T. Rex,
OOIOO,
The Saints,
Faraquet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Porter Ricks,
The Golliwogs,
John Foxx,
Judy Mowatt,
The Raincoats,
Crispian St. Peters,
Masters at Work,
Drexciya,
Clear Light,
The Kinks,
Youth Brigade,
The Mummies,
Peter and Kerry,
Talk Talk,
Grey Daturas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Christie,
The Durutti Column,
Hot Snakes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kerrie Biddell,
Man Parrish,
Joey Negro,
Minor Threat,
Sex Pistols,
Anakelly,
Glenn Branca,
The Motions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Goldenarms,
June Days,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Electric Prunes,
The Pretty Things,
The Fire Engines,
Graham Central Station,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Pantytec,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Von Mondo,
Iggy Pop,
Archie Shepp,
Marvin Gaye,
The Grass Roots,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.