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 Czech Republic and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Average White Band to the crunk 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harry Pussy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantaleimon,
Thompson Twins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Todd Terry,
Von Mondo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Seeds,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
KRS-One,
The Remains,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Funkadelic,
Reuben Wilson,
Y Pants,
Quando Quango,
Graham Central Station,
Malaria!,
Dual Sessions,
Sight & Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sex Pistols,
The Human League,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Skriet,
Pylon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kas Product,
Deepchord,
Chrome,
Masters at Work,
Mandrill,
The Motions,
The Invisible,
Bobby Sherman,
Amon Düül,
Black Sheep,
the Bar-Kays,
Janne Schatter,
The Black Dice,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Teasers,
John Cale,
Excepter,
Faust,
The Standells,
Moby Grape,
Sam Rivers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.