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 South Africa and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Mission of Burma to the jazz 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moebius,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scratch Acid,
The Searchers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Pretty Things,
Icehouse,
U.S. Maple,
Zapp,
Second Layer,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alice Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Subhumans,
Scientists,
David Axelrod,
Accadde A,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Minnie Riperton,
Fear,
Section 25,
Jerry's Kids,
Yusef Lateef,
Davy DMX,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter & Gordon,
ABC,
MC5,
Scion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fatback Band,
Mars,
Prince Buster,
The Angels of Light,
Cluster,
Adolescents,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Soft Cell,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantaleimon,
Tommy Roe,
The New Christs,
Masters at Work,
The Moleskins,
Nirvana,
The Dirtbombs,
ABBA,
Bluetip,
Ten City,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Rundgren,
The Last Poets,
Grey Daturas,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.