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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rap 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Anthony Braxton,
Sister Nancy,
Scratch Acid,
Barrington Levy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Black Moon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sight & Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
10cc,
Pantytec,
Nik Kershaw,
The New Christs,
Brothers Johnson,
Monks,
Sandy B,
Camberwell Now,
Soulsonic Force,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike,
The Mummies,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Graham Central Station,
Niagra,
Michelle Simonal,
Judy Mowatt,
Model 500,
Isaac Hayes,
New Age Steppers,
Fluxion,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donny Hathaway,
Severed Heads,
Deepchord,
Magazine,
The Techniques,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June Days,
Bootsy Collins,
The Motions,
Jandek,
Moebius,
Deakin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fat Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crime,
Rapeman,
New Order,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fear,
Harry Pussy,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.