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 San Marino and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tom Boy to the grunge 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Camouflage,
Ultimate Spinach,
Byron Stingily,
Terry Callier,
Outsiders,
Bill Near,
Little Man,
the Human League,
The Happenings,
Tim Buckley,
Gerry Rafferty,
Shoche,
A Certain Ratio,
Colin Newman,
Blossom Toes,
Sonic Youth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Prince Buster,
Can,
OOIOO,
Thompson Twins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aswad,
Kaleidoscope,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharoah Sanders,
Babytalk,
Mars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tommy Roe,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Cluster,
The Sonics,
James White and The Blacks,
Soul II Soul,
Maurizio,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Avey Tare,
Harpers Bizarre,
Negative Approach,
Sällskapet,
Amazonics,
Make Up,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Robert Hood,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Patti Smith,
The Martian,
Symarip,
Kenny Larkin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.