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 Guyana and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Susan Cadogan to the grunge 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quadrant,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Womack,
Drexciya,
Ultra Naté,
Pussy Galore,
Sällskapet,
La Düsseldorf,
Dennis Brown,
Rekid,
Dark Day,
Hardrive,
Eddi Front,
Soul II Soul,
The Fire Engines,
Jeff Mills,
Panda Bear,
Tomorrow,
Colin Newman,
Procol Harum,
Television Personalities,
Bush Tetras,
Second Layer,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül II,
Magma,
Fluxion,
Pierre Henry,
Suicide,
Grey Daturas,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kayak,
Monolake,
The Durutti Column,
Connie Case,
Mark Hollis,
the Slits,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eli Mardock,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Duran Duran,
Toni Rubio,
Crime,
Make Up,
DJ Sneak,
Nik Kershaw,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
World's Most,
the Soft Cell,
Sonic Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mo-Dettes,
The American Breed,
The Associates,
Man Parrish,
Pulsallama,
The Kinks,
Porter Ricks,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.