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 Paraguay and from Paris.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
MC5,
Colin Newman,
Fear,
Accadde A,
Josef K,
Prince Buster,
The Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
R.M.O.,
The Kinks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Severed Heads,
Surgeon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boz Scaggs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fire Engines,
Cameo,
Albert Ayler,
The Martian,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crime,
The Five Americans,
Anakelly,
Monolake,
Cal Tjader,
Ornette Coleman,
Popol Vuh,
Soul Sonic Force,
Moebius,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pere Ubu,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
AZ,
Thompson Twins,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sight & Sound,
Bluetip,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grey Daturas,
Rapeman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scott Walker,
Iggy Pop,
Buzzcocks,
Suicide,
the Soft Cell,
Faust,
Niagra,
Bob Dylan,
FM Einheit,
T. Rex,
Pagans,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.