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 Georgia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Skatalites to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sonics,
Lalann,
Derrick Morgan,
The Names,
Monks,
Cecil Taylor,
Sunsets and Hearts,
La Düsseldorf,
a-ha,
The Busters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joy Division,
Eurythmics,
Funkadelic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Accadde A,
Spandau Ballet,
Yazoo,
Fatback Band,
Alphaville,
Main Source,
The Neon Judgement,
Don Cherry,
Dennis Brown,
Prince Buster,
Ronnie Foster,
B.T. Express,
Mad Mike,
The Cosmic Jokers,
LL Cool J,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Kinks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marc Almond,
Girls At Our Best!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Patti Smith,
The Gladiators,
The Smiths,
Kayak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Index,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Copeland,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
Amazonics,
Altered Images,
Deakin,
Make Up,
James White and The Blacks,
Nico,
The J.B.'s,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gories,
Livin' Joy,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.