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 San Marino and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 Arcadia to the jazz 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Litter,
Intrusion,
The Blackbyrds,
Model 500,
Nirvana,
The Remains,
Matthew Bourne,
Darondo,
cv313,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Flag,
The Alarm Clocks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Donald Byrd,
Urselle,
Morten Harket,
Cheater Slicks,
Howard Jones,
Reuben Wilson,
Symarip,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cameo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masters at Work,
Fela Kuti,
Funkadelic,
Saccharine Trust,
The Buckinghams,
Joey Negro,
Franke,
Graham Central Station,
Popol Vuh,
Newcleus,
Bootsy Collins,
Desert Stars,
Jawbox,
Roxy Music,
Bobby Sherman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
James White and The Blacks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Basic Channel,
Pole,
The Fire Engines,
Gichy Dan,
K-Klass,
Kurtis Blow,
The Music Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Carl Craig,
The Trojans,
Parry Music,
Boz Scaggs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Porter Ricks,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.