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 Hungary and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Faust to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Excepter,
Byron Stingily,
Fluxion,
Chrome,
Yaz,
Bad Manners,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dennis Brown,
Rotary Connection,
Sight & Sound,
a-ha,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Starr,
Sugar Minott,
Eric Copeland,
The Fortunes,
Camouflage,
Buzzcocks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Basic Channel,
Black Pus,
48th St. Collective,
Ronan,
Zapp,
The Shadows of Knight,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultra Naté,
The J.B.'s,
Fela Kuti,
Fatback Band,
Sixth Finger,
New York Dolls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moody Blues,
Kenny Larkin,
K-Klass,
Zero Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Technova,
Liliput,
John Lydon,
kango's stein massive,
Icehouse,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxy Music,
the Soft Cell,
Barbara Tucker,
Minnie Riperton,
Sex Pistols,
Gong,
Soft Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
Danielle Patucci,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Suicide,
The Leaves,
Ossler,
Bush Tetras,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.