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 Djibouti and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Massinfluence to the crunk 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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
K-Klass,
Althea and Donna,
Severed Heads,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kerrie Biddell,
Niagra,
Ten City,
The Evens,
F. McDonald,
Eddi Front,
Vladislav Delay,
Second Layer,
Nirvana,
Subhumans,
Whodini,
The Skatalites,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sandy B,
Theoretical Girls,
Aswad,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
Nas,
a-ha,
Mad Mike,
Arcadia,
Yazoo,
Marvin Gaye,
Fela Kuti,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marc Almond,
Motorama,
Sparks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grey Daturas,
Circle Jerks,
Silicon Teens,
Carl Craig,
John Lydon,
The Stooges,
One Last Wish,
Groovy Waters,
New York Dolls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pierre Henry,
Sällskapet,
Skarface,
8 Eyed Spy,
June of 44,
Organ,
Laurel Aitken,
Marmalade,
Zero Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.