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 Kuwait and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum 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 Negative Approach 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
These Immortal Souls,
Crash Course in Science,
Kas Product,
The Associates,
The Trojans,
Chris & Cosey,
Reagan Youth,
Erasure,
Underground Resistance,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moleskins,
The Beau Brummels,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scrapy,
Depeche Mode,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Saints,
Bill Near,
Johnny Osbourne,
Donald Byrd,
Yellowson,
Suburban Knight,
Sarah Menescal,
Arthur Verocai,
Pylon,
The Monks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marvin Gaye,
Bang On A Can,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Charles Mingus,
Spoonie Gee,
Rosa Yemen,
Soft Cell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Slave,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Public Enemy,
Scratch Acid,
The Velvet Underground,
Gichy Dan,
Accadde A,
Groovy Waters,
Tubeway Army,
Pantaleimon,
Cluster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Real Kids,
Moby Grape,
Electric Prunes,
Yazoo,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Move,
The J.B.'s,
The Smiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.