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 Yemen 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 LL Cool J to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Whodini,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Das Ding,
Jandek,
Albert Ayler,
Hoover,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hasil Adkins,
Slick Rick,
Stetsasonic,
Rod Modell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Maleditus Sound,
Babytalk,
Bad Manners,
ABBA,
Pantaleimon,
the Human League,
Tom Boy,
Swans,
Deakin,
Agent Orange,
David Bowie,
Rapeman,
The Buckinghams,
Eurythmics,
The Standells,
The Dirtbombs,
Donald Byrd,
Wasted Youth,
Livin' Joy,
A Certain Ratio,
Scott Walker,
Harmonia,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ponytail,
Outsiders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fad Gadget,
Spoonie Gee,
The Durutti Column,
The Slits,
Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bluetip,
Soft Cell,
June of 44,
Radio Birdman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Stooges,
In Retrospect,
Skaos,
Lindisfarne,
The Litter,
Pylon,
Bobby Byrd,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.