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 Lebanon and from Manchester.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 Television Personalities to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
A Certain Ratio,
Outsiders,
Wire,
Ludus,
Fugazi,
Pulsallama,
MDC,
JFA,
The Wake,
Alison Limerick,
Wolf Eyes,
John Holt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pantaleimon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Style,
Cymande,
Television,
The Cramps,
The Zeros,
The Index,
The Techniques,
The American Breed,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Green,
Joensuu 1685,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deakin,
Cal Tjader,
Morten Harket,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thee Headcoats,
Aural Exciters,
ABBA,
the Soft Cell,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
E-Dancer,
Tim Buckley,
Rites of Spring,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Davy DMX,
Main Source,
Model 500,
Pierre Henry,
Donny Hathaway,
Audionom,
OOIOO,
Aloha Tigers,
Oneida,
Anakelly,
Subhumans,
Bootsy Collins,
Massinfluence,
Idris Muhammad,
Visage,
Black Flag,
Ituana,
Fat Boys,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.