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 Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba 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 Swans to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Teasers,
the Sonics,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
T. Rex,
The Trojans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
a-ha,
Royal Trux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cymande,
Jimmy McGriff,
Stiv Bators,
Danielle Patucci,
Barbara Tucker,
The Offenders,
Todd Rundgren,
China Crisis,
Camberwell Now,
Monolake,
Anakelly,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bronski Beat,
Curtis Mayfield,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Remains,
Symarip,
The United States of America,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Young Marble Giants,
Roxy Music,
The Mojo Men,
Marvin Gaye,
Spoonie Gee,
The Techniques,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Accadde A,
Bill Near,
The Happenings,
Robert Görl,
Grauzone,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Invisible,
Duran Duran,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dead Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Echospace,
Underground Resistance,
Massinfluence,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.