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 Tonga and from Lille.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 Wings to the crunk 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Moon,
Janne Schatter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nas,
The Fugs,
Country Teasers,
Fear,
The Searchers,
Danielle Patucci,
The Pretty Things,
Motorama,
Junior Murvin,
Oneida,
Arthur Verocai,
MDC,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Don Cherry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Metal Thangz,
Average White Band,
Pagans,
The Trojans,
Fatback Band,
the Germs,
Radiohead,
Yazoo,
Al Stewart,
The Monochrome Set,
Grauzone,
Black Pus,
Adolescents,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cybotron,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T.S.O.L.,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fuzztones,
Icehouse,
Pylon,
Electric Prunes,
Basic Channel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
Man Parrish,
Scientists,
Livin' Joy,
Popol Vuh,
Circle Jerks,
Rosa Yemen,
World's Most,
Arcadia,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Remains,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.