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 Greece and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents 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?
Bobby Byrd,
Hasil Adkins,
Swans,
The Techniques,
June Days,
The Martian,
The Birthday Party,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rosa Yemen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Zeros,
Jeff Mills,
Erasure,
Carl Craig,
Sex Pistols,
Siglo XX,
Barry Ungar,
The Move,
Mo-Dettes,
La Düsseldorf,
Gerry Rafferty,
One Last Wish,
Desert Stars,
Sugar Minott,
The Vogues,
Anakelly,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flipper,
Gang Starr,
Wire,
Excepter,
The Offenders,
Ponytail,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reuben Wilson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jerry's Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Neu!,
Gang of Four,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Charles Mingus,
Eve St. Jones,
Brick,
48th St. Collective,
Warsaw,
Hoover,
Main Source,
Joe Finger,
New York Dolls,
The Music Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Freddie Wadling,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Christie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Franke,
Agitation Free,
Tres Demented,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.