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 Nepal and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eric Dolphy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alison Limerick,
Michelle Simonal,
Mantronix,
The Buckinghams,
Graham Central Station,
Toni Rubio,
Tears for Fears,
Prince Buster,
Colin Newman,
Wolf Eyes,
Spandau Ballet,
Scion,
The Martian,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fluxion,
X-101,
Bill Near,
Josef K,
Jacques Brel,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Yellowson,
Masters at Work,
The Busters,
X-Ray Spex,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wasted Youth,
Archie Shepp,
Cal Tjader,
Big Daddy Kane,
Chris Corsano,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Infiniti,
Skarface,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television Personalities,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
The Velvet Underground,
The Saints,
The Associates,
Sugar Minott,
Pierre Henry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Circle Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
Sam Rivers,
Pantytec,
Idris Muhammad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Matthew Bourne,
One Last Wish,
John Lydon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.