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 Poland and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 the Bar-Kays 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Eurythmics,
Model 500,
Moss Icon,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Christie,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Steve Hackett,
The Dead C,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Donald Byrd,
Agent Orange,
Livin' Joy,
Saccharine Trust,
Surgeon,
T. Rex,
Mantronix,
Eli Mardock,
Liliput,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rufus Thomas,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Howard Jones,
Altered Images,
Can,
Yellowson,
The Sound,
Gang of Four,
Echospace,
Monolake,
The Tremeloes,
The Human League,
Lyres,
Schoolly D,
Wolf Eyes,
Nick Fraelich,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Bar-Kays,
Bush Tetras,
The Slackers,
James White and The Blacks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Five Americans,
Television,
Wings,
The New Christs,
Stereo Dub,
Simply Red,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ten City,
Talk Talk,
Vainqueur,
PIL,
Hashim,
Boz Scaggs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pussy Galore,
Dawn Penn,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.