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 Canada 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Accadde A to the grime 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
48th St. Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Loose Ends,
Gang of Four,
Wally Richardson,
Black Moon,
Charles Mingus,
Nick Fraelich,
Royal Trux,
Joyce Sims,
Wolf Eyes,
Funky Four + One,
Babytalk,
Junior Murvin,
The Alarm Clocks,
New York Dolls,
Davy DMX,
Maleditus Sound,
The Martian,
Unrelated Segments,
Skarface,
Rufus Thomas,
Symarip,
The Black Dice,
AZ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Kinks,
Amon Düül II,
Joensuu 1685,
The Blackbyrds,
The Young Rascals,
Masters at Work,
Clear Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Monks,
Robert Görl,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minny Pops,
Joe Finger,
Sonny Sharrock,
Depeche Mode,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Henry Cow,
The Moody Blues,
Hardrive,
Vainqueur,
Mr. Review,
The Music Machine,
Cal Tjader,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Smiths,
Colin Newman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jawbox,
Grey Daturas,
Supertramp,
Nation of Ulysses,
KRS-One,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.