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 India and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Michael McDonald 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 Donald Byrd to the electroclash 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crooked Eye,
Barbara Tucker,
the Sonics,
Motorama,
Bobby Sherman,
Laurel Aitken,
Erykah Badu,
EPMD,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soulsonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
Soul II Soul,
The Zeros,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Birthday Party,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tim Buckley,
Newcleus,
Nas,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Vainqueur,
Howard Jones,
Nico,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cheater Slicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
JFA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hoover,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wings,
The Cowsills,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Cell,
Blossom Toes,
The Misunderstood,
L. Decosne,
The Black Dice,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Royal Trux,
Zapp,
Boz Scaggs,
John Cale,
Todd Rundgren,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eddi Front,
Joensuu 1685,
Cal Tjader,
Siglo XX,
the Normal,
Reagan Youth,
Angry Samoans,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
DNA,
Gichy Dan,
Amon Düül II,
Zero Boys,
Pole,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.