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 Vietnam and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the techno 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Buzzcocks,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
Monks,
The Mummies,
Ice-T,
Minnie Riperton,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Qualms,
The Fortunes,
The Smiths,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Laurel Aitken,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Walker Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Iggy Pop,
The Golliwogs,
Stereo Dub,
The Names,
Rites of Spring,
Unrelated Segments,
The Saints,
Ituana,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Smoke,
Bob Dylan,
Aloha Tigers,
Max Romeo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Adolescents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Dolphy,
Mars,
H. Thieme,
Royal Trux,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ken Boothe,
Television Personalities,
Rapeman,
Rotary Connection,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scrapy,
Chrome,
David McCallum,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Amon Düül,
Terry Callier,
Josef K,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Human League,
Massinfluence,
Pantytec,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.