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 Netherlands and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Normal to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Youth Brigade,
Todd Terry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Depeche Mode,
Aural Exciters,
Joyce Sims,
The Pop Group,
Rufus Thomas,
Faust,
The Offenders,
Cheater Slicks,
Blossom Toes,
Lalann,
The Smiths,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moss Icon,
the Bar-Kays,
Slave,
Section 25,
John Coltrane,
Gabor Szabo,
Glenn Branca,
Infiniti,
Sun Ra,
World's Most,
Eric Dolphy,
Smog,
Crispian St. Peters,
Khruangbin,
Erykah Badu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Desert Stars,
The Invisible,
Freddie Wadling,
The Litter,
Nas,
Soul II Soul,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Peter & Gordon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Popol Vuh,
Eric B and Rakim,
Michelle Simonal,
DJ Sneak,
James White and The Blacks,
David McCallum,
Cybotron,
Yellowson,
The Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kas Product,
Yaz,
New York Dolls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brass Construction,
T. Rex,
Interpol,
Danielle Patucci,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.