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 Netherlands and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Scan 7 to the rap 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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Martian,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter and Kerry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blake Baxter,
The Gun Club,
Desert Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Darondo,
Soft Cell,
Grey Daturas,
Rosa Yemen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ronnie Foster,
Minnie Riperton,
Dennis Brown,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Main Source,
T. Rex,
Anthony Braxton,
Juan Atkins,
L. Decosne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thee Headcoats,
Warren Ellis,
AZ,
Bang On A Can,
Lalann,
Don Cherry,
Second Layer,
Pantytec,
Stereo Dub,
The Names,
Ponytail,
Masters at Work,
Tommy Roe,
K-Klass,
Con Funk Shun,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
The Human League,
Eric Copeland,
D'Angelo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ossler,
Eurythmics,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alice Coltrane,
The Black Dice,
Gang Green,
Marine Girls,
Joyce Sims,
Gong,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
Ludus,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.