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 Philippines and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Star Department to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Blancmange,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Last Poets,
Amazonics,
Rites of Spring,
Black Bananas,
Ten City,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Tremeloes,
Dual Sessions,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Byrd,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thee Headcoats,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eric Dolphy,
The Selecter,
Sex Pistols,
Theoretical Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Franke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Judy Mowatt,
Bauhaus,
Nik Kershaw,
Sandy B,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sun Ra,
Anakelly,
Vladislav Delay,
The Move,
Al Stewart,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fall,
The Grass Roots,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Blackbyrds,
F. McDonald,
Stiv Bators,
Echospace,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lebanon Hanover,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doors,
Sarah Menescal,
The Skatalites,
The Names,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
The Count Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Godley & Creme,
Harmonia,
Gang Green,
Marshall Jefferson,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.