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 South Africa and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Ossler,
The Standells,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultra Naté,
Darondo,
Sister Nancy,
Marine Girls,
John Holt,
Agent Orange,
Sun Ra,
Gabor Szabo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
The Invisible,
The Associates,
Grandmaster Flash,
R.M.O.,
The Buckinghams,
The Evens,
Quantec,
Tim Buckley,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-102,
Rites of Spring,
Agitation Free,
World's Most,
Robert Hood,
DJ Sneak,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nik Kershaw,
Rekid,
Quadrant,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joe Smooth,
MC5,
Wally Richardson,
The Mummies,
The Walker Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Rufus Thomas,
The Smoke,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultravox,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Accadde A,
Funky Four + One,
Interpol,
Khruangbin,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Music Machine,
Bauhaus,
Soft Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nation of Ulysses,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kayak,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.