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 Uganda and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Arab on Radar to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Jandek,
Ituana,
Johnny Clarke,
Kas Product,
The Dead C,
The Associates,
Josef K,
Rakim,
Moss Icon,
Amon Düül,
Desert Stars,
R.M.O.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dennis Brown,
Heaven 17,
Television,
Sister Nancy,
Pagans,
Charles Mingus,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Moon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Darondo,
Scientists,
Sound Behaviour,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marc Almond,
Can,
Depeche Mode,
Ten City,
The Blackbyrds,
Minnie Riperton,
Brand Nubian,
Clear Light,
Von Mondo,
Shoche,
Pylon,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Toasters,
the Sonics,
John Lydon,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Gang Dance,
Toni Rubio,
Chrome,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chris Corsano,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris & Cosey,
Scan 7,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Residents,
Donald Byrd,
Public Enemy,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
Joe Finger,
Bill Near,
Qualms,
Scott Walker,
Audionom,
Wire,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.