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 Angola and from London.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Popol Vuh,
Crash Course in Science,
Barrington Levy,
Rekid,
John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Drexciya,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Swans,
The Offenders,
Amazonics,
Lungfish,
Jandek,
The Black Dice,
Derrick May,
Ludus,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Terry,
Hot Snakes,
The Slits,
Whodini,
Funky Four + One,
The Gap Band,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Mills,
The Neon Judgement,
Easy Going,
Kayak,
T. Rex,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Lydon,
Ronnie Foster,
Terry Callier,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Last Poets,
Magma,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neu!,
Lou Reed,
Delta 5,
Nas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Todd Rundgren,
Kas Product,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Barracudas,
Jawbox,
Boogie Down Productions,
Neil Young,
The Index,
Sällskapet,
DNA,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric Copeland,
New Order,
Hardrive,
Wasted Youth,
Negative Approach,
Eric B and Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.