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 Vanuatu and from London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grime 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nas,
Reuben Wilson,
Cluster,
The American Breed,
AZ,
Hoover,
Kayak,
The Trojans,
Wolf Eyes,
Symarip,
Letta Mbulu,
The Slackers,
Tres Demented,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kenny Larkin,
The Toasters,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
Barbara Tucker,
Deakin,
Average White Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Steve Hackett,
Dawn Penn,
Amazonics,
Negative Approach,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Malaria!,
Hot Snakes,
ABBA,
Todd Rundgren,
The Modern Lovers,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Susan Cadogan,
Mission of Burma,
Y Pants,
Franke,
Swell Maps,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxette,
Judy Mowatt,
Suicide,
Bang On A Can,
Quando Quango,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
Motorama,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Divine Comedy,
Juan Atkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Morten Harket,
Au Pairs,
Brothers Johnson,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Red Krayola,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.