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 Netherlands 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bill Wells to the rap 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Roxy Music,
Eurythmics,
Leonard Cohen,
Motorama,
Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Happenings,
Smog,
the Association,
Lyres,
the Normal,
Cheater Slicks,
Dead Boys,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aural Exciters,
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
James White and The Blacks,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
Davy DMX,
The Knickerbockers,
Boz Scaggs,
Animal Collective,
Rekid,
The Fuzztones,
Angry Samoans,
Black Moon,
KRS-One,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Index,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fat Boys,
Echospace,
The Barracudas,
Derrick May,
Public Image Ltd.,
Average White Band,
Joe Finger,
T. Rex,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Clear Light,
The Divine Comedy,
The Leaves,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sarah Menescal,
Brand Nubian,
The Last Poets,
Symarip,
Godley & Creme,
L. Decosne,
World's Most,
The Stooges,
Arab on Radar,
Alphaville,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Country Joe & The Fish,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.