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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Public Image Ltd. to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Altered Images,
Mark Hollis,
The Offenders,
Dark Day,
The Remains,
Unrelated Segments,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Pus,
Wolf Eyes,
Funkadelic,
Bauhaus,
Pere Ubu,
Lightning Bolt,
Wire,
The Human League,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brass Construction,
Jesper Dahlback,
T. Rex,
The Pretty Things,
Jawbox,
Negative Approach,
Radio Birdman,
Unwound,
Steve Hackett,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cluster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ice-T,
Erasure,
Symarip,
Derrick May,
Los Fastidios,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cameo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nico,
Inner City,
Siglo XX,
Nils Olav,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Heaven 17,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sparks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Faraquet,
Patti Smith,
Ronan,
Bill Near,
Bronski Beat,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Normal,
Sandy B,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Toasters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boredoms,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.