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 Dominican Republic and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 The Doobie Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Lou Christie,
Davy DMX,
Schoolly D,
Robert Wyatt,
Soulsonic Force,
Mandrill,
Fluxion,
Gang Green,
Matthew Halsall,
Swell Maps,
Sam Rivers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Drexciya,
Arthur Verocai,
Bill Wells,
Buzzcocks,
Pulsallama,
Severed Heads,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Real Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Los Fastidios,
Marmalade,
EPMD,
New Age Steppers,
Nas,
Rod Modell,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scott Walker,
Ponytail,
JFA,
Radio Birdman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
LL Cool J,
Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
Sun City Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
World's Most,
Rhythm & Sound,
Brick,
Reagan Youth,
The Five Americans,
Jeff Lynne,
Make Up,
Zapp,
Essential Logic,
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
Silicon Teens,
Wally Richardson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
UT,
Eden Ahbez,
Scientists,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.