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 Benin and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Junior Murvin to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bill Wells,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ossler,
Excepter,
the Slits,
The Gories,
Gichy Dan,
Nils Olav,
the Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Subhumans,
Magazine,
Roy Ayers,
The Techniques,
Pantaleimon,
Peter and Kerry,
Prince Buster,
Cal Tjader,
The Motions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brass Construction,
The Mojo Men,
Loose Ends,
Graham Central Station,
Soul II Soul,
Carl Craig,
Wolf Eyes,
Sandy B,
Chrome,
The Invisible,
Matthew Bourne,
Pere Ubu,
Radio Birdman,
Idris Muhammad,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soulsonic Force,
Sun City Girls,
Dead Boys,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Don Cherry,
Quantec,
The Cure,
Heaven 17,
John Cale,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roger Hodgson,
Quando Quango,
Tres Demented,
Trumans Water,
Zapp,
Simply Red,
the Germs,
Amon Düül II,
Joensuu 1685,
Pulsallama,
B.T. Express,
Anthony Braxton,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.