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 Kosovo and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Rapeman,
Organ,
James White and The Blacks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Swans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Womack,
The Fire Engines,
Cheater Slicks,
The Seeds,
Alphaville,
Sun Ra,
Electric Prunes,
the Slits,
KRS-One,
Frankie Knuckles,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Drexciya,
Joey Negro,
Moby Grape,
Eric Copeland,
Half Japanese,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lyres,
Television Personalities,
Bush Tetras,
Dual Sessions,
The Victims,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Techniques,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-Ray Spex,
China Crisis,
Magazine,
Inner City,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Hood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scratch Acid,
Tears for Fears,
The Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Amon Düül,
Ronnie Foster,
Wolf Eyes,
Monolake,
The Gladiators,
Gichy Dan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sällskapet,
the Bar-Kays,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gap Band,
The Martian,
The Litter,
The Cure,
Mo-Dettes,
Massinfluence,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.