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 Hungary and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 The Last Poets to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
The Durutti Column,
a-ha,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
Subhumans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fugazi,
Terrestrial Tones,
DNA,
Yaz,
Wolf Eyes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Zero Boys,
Graham Central Station,
The Blackbyrds,
The Cure,
Loose Ends,
Slick Rick,
Henry Cow,
Siglo XX,
The Beau Brummels,
John Coltrane,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Amon Düül II,
The Mojo Men,
Boz Scaggs,
H. Thieme,
Charles Mingus,
Audionom,
The Searchers,
Bobby Womack,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scientists,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ornette Coleman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mantronix,
The Kinks,
Kerri Chandler,
Silicon Teens,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Moleskins,
Motorama,
Mandrill,
Arab on Radar,
Smog,
Intrusion,
The Zeros,
The Gun Club,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
The Moody Blues,
Sugar Minott,
In Retrospect,
Archie Shepp,
Pussy Galore,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.