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 Slovenia and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sound to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Saints,
Siglo XX,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stetsasonic,
Blake Baxter,
Dead Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun Ra,
Rotary Connection,
Infiniti,
Darondo,
Danielle Patucci,
a-ha,
Jandek,
Joe Finger,
Malaria!,
Boredoms,
Glenn Branca,
Slick Rick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marvin Gaye,
Brick,
Flash Fearless,
Slave,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moby Grape,
Heaven 17,
Yazoo,
Pere Ubu,
Faraquet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Funkadelic,
Newcleus,
the Bar-Kays,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Motorama,
Robert Hood,
Buzzcocks,
The Cure,
Quadrant,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Suburban Knight,
Severed Heads,
Scrapy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wolf Eyes,
Sun City Girls,
Altered Images,
Q and Not U,
Clear Light,
The Leaves,
Essential Logic,
The Sonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABC,
The Gap Band,
Excepter,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.