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 Cuba and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Scratch Acid to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Average White Band,
The Kinks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kerri Chandler,
Audionom,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Blake Baxter,
Public Image Ltd.,
David Bowie,
B.T. Express,
Rapeman,
Dark Day,
the Association,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bootsy Collins,
Ralphi Rosario,
MC5,
The Moleskins,
Sandy B,
The Gladiators,
Yazoo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
U.S. Maple,
Bang On A Can,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fuzztones,
Mr. Review,
Johnny Clarke,
K-Klass,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cramps,
Mars,
Pantytec,
Wolf Eyes,
Moebius,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scratch Acid,
Darondo,
Grey Daturas,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stiv Bators,
Lyres,
The Golliwogs,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Con Funk Shun,
Ornette Coleman,
Yaz,
Aswad,
Rakim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Saccharine Trust,
Leonard Cohen,
FM Einheit,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.