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 France and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Q65 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Ken Boothe,
Hasil Adkins,
The Invisible,
The Modern Lovers,
The Skatalites,
Y Pants,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash,
Connie Case,
The Selecter,
Jerry's Kids,
The Moody Blues,
The Cure,
Royal Trux,
Blake Baxter,
the Soft Cell,
Gang of Four,
K-Klass,
The Litter,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fortunes,
MDC,
Depeche Mode,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
Boz Scaggs,
Audionom,
Crooked Eye,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Archie Shepp,
John Lydon,
Erasure,
Underground Resistance,
Barrington Levy,
Darondo,
Gong,
Bob Dylan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Durutti Column,
Lindisfarne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Technova,
Rosa Yemen,
Sixth Finger,
Interpol,
AZ,
Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spandau Ballet,
Yellowson,
Morten Harket,
Harry Pussy,
Camberwell Now,
Minny Pops,
The Toasters,
Yaz,
Subhumans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.