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 Uruguay and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 James White and The Blacks to the jazz 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Bang On A Can,
Lee Hazlewood,
Depeche Mode,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tom Boy,
Rotary Connection,
Nils Olav,
David McCallum,
World's Most,
Surgeon,
Dead Boys,
Audionom,
Black Sheep,
Amon Düül II,
Franke,
Quando Quango,
Todd Terry,
JFA,
AZ,
DNA,
Livin' Joy,
Half Japanese,
Buzzcocks,
The Grass Roots,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vladislav Delay,
Althea and Donna,
Moebius,
The Dead C,
New York Dolls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Loose Ends,
Johnny Clarke,
Metal Thangz,
The Fall,
Deepchord,
Grandmaster Flash,
Blossom Toes,
Carl Craig,
Warren Ellis,
Simply Red,
Byron Stingily,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lucky Dragons,
Roxette,
Juan Atkins,
LL Cool J,
Eli Mardock,
Neu!,
Girls At Our Best!,
Monolake,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dark Day,
The Trojans,
The Motions,
John Foxx,
The Barracudas,
Scott Walker,
Au Pairs,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.