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 Ecuador and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 It's A Beautiful Day 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
Thompson Twins,
Monks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dennis Brown,
48th St. Collective,
Echospace,
Connie Case,
Erykah Badu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
KRS-One,
The Toasters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
Don Cherry,
The Blues Magoos,
James White and The Blacks,
Barrington Levy,
The Real Kids,
Soft Machine,
Warsaw,
Sister Nancy,
UT,
Newcleus,
Scan 7,
June of 44,
10cc,
Hardrive,
Alton Ellis,
La Düsseldorf,
Interpol,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Groovy Waters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scott Walker,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Red Krayola,
Jeff Lynne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Essential Logic,
The Beau Brummels,
Yellowson,
Organ,
Juan Atkins,
The Saints,
The Durutti Column,
Marine Girls,
Archie Shepp,
Lungfish,
Unrelated Segments,
Danielle Patucci,
Arthur Verocai,
Sam Rivers,
Fat Boys,
Cal Tjader,
The Doors,
Kaleidoscope,
Spoonie Gee,
The Electric Prunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.