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 Senegal and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Lou Reed 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 Duran Duran to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Pole,
Interpol,
Glenn Branca,
Bob Dylan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cameo,
Byron Stingily,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liliput,
The Shadows of Knight,
Henry Cow,
Jesper Dahlback,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Severed Heads,
Gichy Dan,
Agitation Free,
Pagans,
Moby Grape,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Charles Mingus,
David McCallum,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
The Kinks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Pantytec,
Yazoo,
Angry Samoans,
Ten City,
The Happenings,
the Association,
Chris Corsano,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nils Olav,
D'Angelo,
Davy DMX,
Prince Buster,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
Archie Shepp,
Moss Icon,
The Tremeloes,
Stiv Bators,
Sparks,
The Moody Blues,
Joey Negro,
Masters at Work,
Scott Walker,
Donny Hathaway,
Godley & Creme,
Blake Baxter,
A Certain Ratio,
Graham Central Station,
Duran Duran,
Lakeside,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Q65,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.