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 Romania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hot Snakes to the grunge 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skaos,
Sparks,
Mission of Burma,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lower 48,
New York Dolls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pantaleimon,
Roxy Music,
Fatback Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pussy Galore,
Stetsasonic,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Patti Smith,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
The Associates,
Bob Dylan,
Bang On A Can,
LL Cool J,
The Star Department,
In Retrospect,
Public Enemy,
Crime,
The Velvet Underground,
Mr. Review,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gun Club,
Ossler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Kerri Chandler,
The Remains,
Matthew Halsall,
Easy Going,
Mark Hollis,
The Searchers,
Darondo,
Minutemen,
Boz Scaggs,
Swans,
Don Cherry,
the Bar-Kays,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sound,
The Cure,
Amon Düül II,
Hashim,
Ice-T,
John Coltrane,
Au Pairs,
Deadbeat,
Cybotron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sarah Menescal,
Blake Baxter,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Divine Comedy,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.