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 Croatia and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Barry Ungar to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Skarface,
Public Image Ltd.,
Aaron Thompson,
Lyres,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo,
Skaos,
R.M.O.,
The Toasters,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Womack,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scrapy,
Yellowson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Funkadelic,
The Dead C,
The J.B.'s,
AZ,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rotary Connection,
Icehouse,
Matthew Bourne,
Hashim,
Prince Buster,
Warsaw,
Inner City,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Severed Heads,
Peter and Kerry,
The Five Americans,
Von Mondo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jerry's Kids,
Ludus,
One Last Wish,
The Gap Band,
Sällskapet,
Laurel Aitken,
Ituana,
Absolute Body Control,
The Black Dice,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Sheep,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Idris Muhammad,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deadbeat,
Moebius,
Monolake,
Joe Finger,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eli Mardock,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.