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 Monaco and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Jeru the Damaja to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vladislav Delay,
Scion,
The Fire Engines,
Agitation Free,
Average White Band,
The Fortunes,
Ronan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Drexciya,
David Bowie,
Peter & Gordon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sound Behaviour,
Tears for Fears,
The Victims,
The Selecter,
Absolute Body Control,
Nick Fraelich,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wire,
Letta Mbulu,
the Slits,
Grauzone,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Pus,
The Star Department,
Jacques Brel,
Thee Headcoats,
Gichy Dan,
The Divine Comedy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Alton Ellis,
Roy Ayers,
Faust,
Yazoo,
Babytalk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Adolescents,
The Young Rascals,
Harmonia,
Goldenarms,
Television Personalities,
Basic Channel,
Tom Boy,
Wings,
Grey Daturas,
The Birthday Party,
June Days,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Rundgren,
Alphaville,
F. McDonald,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soul II Soul,
Cheater Slicks,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.