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 Burkina and from Copenhagen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Coltrane to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The New Christs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
David McCallum,
Bad Manners,
Smog,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Inner City,
Can,
Mantronix,
The Raincoats,
Gong,
Junior Murvin,
Sarah Menescal,
Marmalade,
Public Enemy,
Tom Boy,
Morten Harket,
Dave Gahan,
Motorama,
Freddie Wadling,
Isaac Hayes,
The Gun Club,
La Düsseldorf,
Buzzcocks,
Masters at Work,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Accadde A,
Rhythm & Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eden Ahbez,
Graham Central Station,
Ornette Coleman,
Lakeside,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Adolescents,
Nils Olav,
Carl Craig,
The Fortunes,
Max Romeo,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Style,
Big Daddy Kane,
Harmonia,
Skriet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Toni Rubio,
Quantec,
The Cowsills,
Hot Snakes,
Derrick May,
The Fire Engines,
Make Up,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smiths,
Sam Rivers,
The Red Krayola,
Yaz,
the Bar-Kays,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.