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 Liberia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Smiths to the punk 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Howard Jones,
The Moody Blues,
Sun City Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
Skriet,
Ludus,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
Swans,
Banda Bassotti,
Terry Callier,
Popol Vuh,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hoover,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yellowson,
8 Eyed Spy,
B.T. Express,
Japan,
Crime,
Matthew Halsall,
Marc Almond,
Marvin Gaye,
Slick Rick,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Blackbyrds,
The Modern Lovers,
Fad Gadget,
Lalann,
Hasil Adkins,
Delta 5,
Gabor Szabo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June Days,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pierre Henry,
Liliput,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Al Stewart,
Soft Machine,
Erasure,
Vladislav Delay,
KRS-One,
Cecil Taylor,
Yazoo,
Brothers Johnson,
The Standells,
Dave Gahan,
Joe Smooth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lebanon Hanover,
10cc,
Joyce Sims,
Sight & Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.