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 Kyrgyzstan and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Modern Lovers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Arab on Radar,
Guru Guru,
Blossom Toes,
Kerri Chandler,
Don Cherry,
Josef K,
Harry Pussy,
Janne Schatter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yazoo,
Mandrill,
Juan Atkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cecil Taylor,
The Doors,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Christie,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dawn Penn,
Surgeon,
Tomorrow,
Marmalade,
The Neon Judgement,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
Jacob Miller,
The Searchers,
Schoolly D,
Man Eating Sloth,
DJ Sneak,
The Misunderstood,
Moss Icon,
Circle Jerks,
Alphaville,
The Cure,
Loose Ends,
Livin' Joy,
John Lydon,
Lyres,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cluster,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cheater Slicks,
DNA,
Saccharine Trust,
Easy Going,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
R.M.O.,
Barry Ungar,
ABC,
Fear,
The Grass Roots,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.