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 Micronesia 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pussy Galore to the dance 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
China Crisis,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aloha Tigers,
Joey Negro,
AZ,
Scrapy,
Black Bananas,
The Young Rascals,
Gang Starr,
Brand Nubian,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
Q65,
The Tremeloes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Zapp,
Sarah Menescal,
Robert Wyatt,
World's Most,
Barrington Levy,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalo Schifrin,
cv313,
Wings,
Byron Stingily,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sam Rivers,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cure,
Iggy Pop,
Wire,
Agent Orange,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fire Engines,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marc Almond,
Isaac Hayes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Knickerbockers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Man Parrish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Monochrome Set,
Boredoms,
The Invisible,
Letta Mbulu,
Swans,
Jacques Brel,
Groovy Waters,
Suburban Knight,
The Misunderstood,
Depeche Mode,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
48th St. Collective,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.