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 Dominican Republic and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Chrome to the grunge 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
L. Decosne,
Silicon Teens,
the Swans,
Jawbox,
Wings,
Nils Olav,
Lyres,
Anthony Braxton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
Jandek,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
Newcleus,
The Red Krayola,
Sonic Youth,
T. Rex,
Faust,
Letta Mbulu,
a-ha,
Ronan,
Amon Düül II,
Sandy B,
Godley & Creme,
Black Pus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Walker Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Symarip,
Organ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grauzone,
Depeche Mode,
Pet Shop Boys,
Q and Not U,
Electric Prunes,
The Mummies,
Bobby Byrd,
Andrew Hill,
Byron Stingily,
Harry Pussy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boredoms,
Matthew Bourne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Absolute Body Control,
Y Pants,
Jeff Mills,
Public Enemy,
X-Ray Spex,
Todd Terry,
Talk Talk,
Motorama,
Gang of Four,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scan 7,
Section 25,
Henry Cow,
Infiniti,
David Bowie,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.