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 Congo and from Hong Kong.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 T. Rex to the punk 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Kerri Chandler,
Mandrill,
John Lydon,
Alison Limerick,
June of 44,
Reagan Youth,
The Angels of Light,
Reuben Wilson,
kango's stein massive,
Steve Hackett,
Sarah Menescal,
Sandy B,
Babytalk,
Average White Band,
Guru Guru,
Scientists,
Kenny Larkin,
Blancmange,
Smog,
PIL,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Liliput,
Rhythm & Sound,
David McCallum,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cheater Slicks,
The Red Krayola,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yellowson,
AZ,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brick,
The Busters,
Pierre Henry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Monolake,
The Happenings,
Flipper,
Roxy Music,
the Germs,
David Axelrod,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Swans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Five Americans,
Los Fastidios,
Procol Harum,
Radiopuhelimet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Juan Atkins,
Pussy Galore,
Junior Murvin,
Eric Dolphy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.