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 Zimbabwe and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the crunk 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
The Names,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nils Olav,
Radiohead,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Sheep,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Barracudas,
John Cale,
Alphaville,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ice-T,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Siglo XX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tommy Roe,
The Wake,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare,
Scan 7,
Isaac Hayes,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
Scratch Acid,
Sixth Finger,
Henry Cow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tears for Fears,
Johnny Clarke,
Eddi Front,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Derrick May,
Yellowson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hot Snakes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rekid,
Quantec,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mummies,
Robert Wyatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Royal Trux,
a-ha,
Bang On A Can,
Television Personalities,
Bronski Beat,
Tim Buckley,
Dennis Brown,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric Copeland,
Kurtis Blow,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.