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 Gabon and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the grime 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Symarip,
Max Romeo,
Cymande,
Thompson Twins,
The Sonics,
Bluetip,
Barrington Levy,
Scion,
Brass Construction,
John Holt,
Slave,
Shuggie Otis,
Monks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fugazi,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-101,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pere Ubu,
Gang Starr,
Groovy Waters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ponytail,
L. Decosne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quantec,
Shoche,
Urselle,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Man Parrish,
Mr. Review,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fortunes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Zero Boys,
John Cale,
The Star Department,
Gang Green,
Danielle Patucci,
the Human League,
Agitation Free,
Suburban Knight,
Echospace,
Wings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Wyatt,
Aswad,
Rosa Yemen,
Sister Nancy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eddi Front,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Negative Approach,
Royal Trux,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.