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 Uganda and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron 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 10cc to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Bush Tetras,
The Pretty Things,
The Misunderstood,
Pierre Henry,
Deakin,
The Moody Blues,
The Fortunes,
Soulsonic Force,
Reagan Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Ronan,
Lungfish,
The Slackers,
Camouflage,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
Visage,
The American Breed,
The Saints,
Tommy Roe,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
The Kinks,
Chris Corsano,
Sight & Sound,
The Litter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bootsy Collins,
Magma,
Moss Icon,
Aloha Tigers,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Juan Atkins,
The Red Krayola,
The Divine Comedy,
Bobby Womack,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bronski Beat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Byrd,
Nico,
Kenny Larkin,
Kurtis Blow,
Icehouse,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultra Naté,
Crispy Ambulance,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brick,
Derrick May,
Stereo Dub,
Wolf Eyes,
Sarah Menescal,
Angry Samoans,
Das Ding,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.