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 Botswana and from Lyon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 8 Eyed Spy 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Au Pairs,
Albert Ayler,
Quadrant,
Marc Almond,
Rites of Spring,
Moby Grape,
Flipper,
Barbara Tucker,
Brand Nubian,
Khruangbin,
Interpol,
Yusef Lateef,
Joe Finger,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pulsallama,
Jeff Mills,
Country Teasers,
The Divine Comedy,
Surgeon,
DNA,
Groovy Waters,
Alison Limerick,
Desert Stars,
Shoche,
The Mojo Men,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Das Ding,
Mission of Burma,
K-Klass,
Tom Boy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
Bang On A Can,
Pole,
Japan,
The Count Five,
Popol Vuh,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mantronix,
The Black Dice,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Monochrome Set,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Slits,
Wire,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
David Axelrod,
Black Moon,
Yaz,
Malaria!,
Stereo Dub,
Mr. Review,
Colin Newman,
Kevin Saunderson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Slits,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.