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 Mozambique and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Todd Terry to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Evens,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
X-102,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
Mantronix,
The Gories,
Bill Near,
Minnie Riperton,
Carl Craig,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
Gong,
Subhumans,
Negative Approach,
The Blackbyrds,
Flipper,
Echospace,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sonny Sharrock,
10cc,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quando Quango,
Bill Wells,
Camouflage,
Black Moon,
Tim Buckley,
MC5,
Urselle,
The Offenders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
UT,
The Associates,
X-101,
Throbbing Gristle,
Technova,
Oblivians,
Jeff Lynne,
Angry Samoans,
Television,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Guru Guru,
Hardrive,
Gang Green,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Doors,
ABC,
Hoover,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aaron Thompson,
Stereo Dub,
Tubeway Army,
Eurythmics,
Bizarre Inc.,
James White and The Blacks,
Circle Jerks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Red Krayola,
Scrapy,
Cybotron,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.