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 Comoros and from Stockholm.
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 Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Talk Talk to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Ultra Naté,
Scott Walker,
The Five Americans,
Lightning Bolt,
Procol Harum,
Don Cherry,
The Red Krayola,
Public Enemy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brothers Johnson,
The New Christs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Bar-Kays,
Moebius,
Matthew Bourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Crooked Eye,
Patti Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
The Golliwogs,
Ronan,
Liliput,
Arcadia,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hasil Adkins,
Pantytec,
Model 500,
Visage,
Rekid,
The Grass Roots,
Cymande,
The Real Kids,
Second Layer,
The Gories,
Lower 48,
T. Rex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Anthony Braxton,
the Germs,
Nirvana,
In Retrospect,
Television Personalities,
Jerry's Kids,
Bronski Beat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Negative Approach,
Eric Dolphy,
Guru Guru,
Toni Rubio,
The Young Rascals,
The Music Machine,
Infiniti,
Roger Hodgson,
Fat Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Steve Hackett,
Eric Copeland,
Fluxion,
Radio Birdman,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.