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 Kiribati and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tears for Fears to the techno 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Faust,
Kayak,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Hill,
Isaac Hayes,
Arab on Radar,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fuzztones,
Gabor Szabo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Althea and Donna,
Marmalade,
Saccharine Trust,
Model 500,
Q65,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faraquet,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gun Club,
Donny Hathaway,
Monks,
Ponytail,
Outsiders,
Dual Sessions,
The Smiths,
Idris Muhammad,
Flipper,
Kurtis Blow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sugar Minott,
The Wake,
Pere Ubu,
Scientists,
Susan Cadogan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeff Lynne,
Colin Newman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Khruangbin,
Rosa Yemen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Country Teasers,
Laurel Aitken,
A Certain Ratio,
Television,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ornette Coleman,
Pole,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Erasure,
Accadde A,
Sarah Menescal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Howard Jones,
LL Cool J,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Infiniti,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.