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 Mongolia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 The Fuzztones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry 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?
Mars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oblivians,
Hoover,
Black Bananas,
Saccharine Trust,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Slick Rick,
Yusef Lateef,
Tres Demented,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mad Mike,
Main Source,
Swell Maps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eve St. Jones,
Hashim,
New York Dolls,
The Skatalites,
The Litter,
CMW,
the Bar-Kays,
10cc,
Model 500,
MDC,
Alton Ellis,
Scott Walker,
X-102,
Sparks,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Beau Brummels,
Fluxion,
Cal Tjader,
Scientists,
Radiohead,
Quantec,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Toni Rubio,
Inner City,
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
The Motions,
The Tremeloes,
Danielle Patucci,
Roger Hodgson,
The Leaves,
Roy Ayers,
Average White Band,
Fela Kuti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eli Mardock,
DJ Style,
The Blackbyrds,
Piero Umiliani,
Althea and Donna,
The Techniques,
Pierre Henry,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.