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 Liechtenstein and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the techno 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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Dark Day,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cowsills,
Eddi Front,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mandrill,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Technova,
Faust,
Vladislav Delay,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sandy B,
Ohio Players,
The Sound,
Eurythmics,
Cluster,
Little Man,
The Young Rascals,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Angry Samoans,
The Martian,
Slick Rick,
Pagans,
John Coltrane,
Lyres,
Lakeside,
Skaos,
Absolute Body Control,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Angels of Light,
Royal Trux,
Soul Sonic Force,
Livin' Joy,
Pierre Henry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Archie Shepp,
The Index,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eden Ahbez,
Masters at Work,
Josef K,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Judy Mowatt,
R.M.O.,
The Flesh Eaters,
David McCallum,
Aloha Tigers,
Pussy Galore,
Banda Bassotti,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Silicon Teens,
The Mummies,
Marmalade,
Desert Stars,
Hardrive,
Sonic Youth,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.