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 Iran and from New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Interpol to the grunge 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
The Stooges,
ABBA,
Ken Boothe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Trojans,
Blake Baxter,
Oblivians,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chrome,
The Kinks,
Qualms,
New Order,
Porter Ricks,
Harry Pussy,
Q and Not U,
Suburban Knight,
CMW,
Scott Walker,
Amazonics,
Shoche,
Excepter,
Laurel Aitken,
Babytalk,
Quando Quango,
Intrusion,
Spandau Ballet,
Brick,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
James White and The Blacks,
Minor Threat,
Gichy Dan,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aloha Tigers,
Joyce Sims,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scrapy,
Masters at Work,
The Motions,
AZ,
Soulsonic Force,
Hoover,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hot Snakes,
The Walker Brothers,
Barbara Tucker,
Khruangbin,
Sister Nancy,
The Black Dice,
Severed Heads,
D'Angelo,
Max Romeo,
Isaac Hayes,
China Crisis,
Das Ding,
The Fuzztones,
Black Moon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.