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 Cameroon and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Funkadelic to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Sonics,
Nico,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sandy B,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stereo Dub,
Grey Daturas,
Glenn Branca,
Boredoms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Donald Byrd,
The Young Rascals,
Rosa Yemen,
Janne Schatter,
Wire,
Nas,
Yellowson,
Marc Almond,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camberwell Now,
Gong,
Bang On A Can,
Fluxion,
Kerri Chandler,
Todd Rundgren,
The Modern Lovers,
The Smiths,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rotary Connection,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Royal Trux,
Chris & Cosey,
Eli Mardock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Y Pants,
The Stooges,
The Motions,
These Immortal Souls,
Desert Stars,
Simply Red,
Sarah Menescal,
Kenny Larkin,
Liliput,
Funkadelic,
Little Man,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dead C,
Amon Düül,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Buzzcocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
The Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Heaven 17,
Don Cherry,
The Martian,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.