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 Saudi Arabia and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the techno 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Thompson Twins,
kango's stein massive,
Kayak,
X-Ray Spex,
John Foxx,
Fugazi,
Mission of Burma,
The Gladiators,
Cheater Slicks,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cowsills,
Smog,
Lakeside,
Siglo XX,
Altered Images,
Cybotron,
The Skatalites,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The New Christs,
Eric Dolphy,
Circle Jerks,
Terrestrial Tones,
This Heat,
Ultimate Spinach,
R.M.O.,
Soft Machine,
Sight & Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Barracudas,
Robert Hood,
Kerri Chandler,
Alice Coltrane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Tremeloes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Slave,
Terry Callier,
Dorothy Ashby,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Don Cherry,
Jeff Lynne,
Kas Product,
Bill Near,
Mandrill,
Ralphi Rosario,
PIL,
Pharoah Sanders,
Isaac Hayes,
Byron Stingily,
The Sonics,
Icehouse,
Iggy Pop,
The Human League,
Soul Sonic Force,
Matthew Bourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Divine Comedy,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.