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 Montenegro 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Electric Prunes to the disco 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
the Bar-Kays,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Subhumans,
Moby Grape,
Brick,
Sarah Menescal,
Erykah Badu,
Angry Samoans,
Ohio Players,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Depeche Mode,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres,
The Velvet Underground,
The New Christs,
Amon Düül II,
Fluxion,
The Searchers,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Cale,
Henry Cow,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Albert Ayler,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gun Club,
Avey Tare,
The Martian,
Idris Muhammad,
Lower 48,
In Retrospect,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
DJ Sneak,
The Pop Group,
Royal Trux,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marvin Gaye,
The Remains,
Easy Going,
Ronnie Foster,
Wings,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brothers Johnson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
T. Rex,
Monolake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Q65,
Funkadelic,
Leonard Cohen,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Near,
Isaac Hayes,
The Seeds,
Bauhaus,
The Durutti Column,
The Gladiators,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.