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 Andorra and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Circle Jerks to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Scientists,
Blossom Toes,
Drexciya,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Dolphy,
Excepter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Adolescents,
Rapeman,
H. Thieme,
Chris Corsano,
Black Moon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
kango's stein massive,
Animal Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
Con Funk Shun,
Fela Kuti,
Pierre Henry,
Audionom,
Smog,
Pagans,
Erykah Badu,
The Raincoats,
Sällskapet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fat Boys,
Eddi Front,
Lalo Schifrin,
LL Cool J,
Average White Band,
Mad Mike,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
Ossler,
F. McDonald,
U.S. Maple,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Das Ding,
Sound Behaviour,
Eurythmics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Bar-Kays,
Zapp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Babytalk,
This Heat,
Visage,
Pole,
Cal Tjader,
Pantaleimon,
Loose Ends,
Half Japanese,
Suicide,
Bootsy Collins,
The Wake,
Desert Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Neu!,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.