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 Georgia and from Accra.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rakim to the electroclash 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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fall,
Bobby Sherman,
The Human League,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stiv Bators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
New York Dolls,
F. McDonald,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Techniques,
The Star Department,
Black Pus,
Babytalk,
Ponytail,
Crime,
kango's stein massive,
48th St. Collective,
Mo-Dettes,
Darondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Al Stewart,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deadbeat,
Sex Pistols,
Audionom,
Severed Heads,
Sällskapet,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Neil Young,
Idris Muhammad,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick May,
Byron Stingily,
Sam Rivers,
Outsiders,
John Cale,
Stetsasonic,
Gerry Rafferty,
Magma,
Juan Atkins,
Index,
Joe Finger,
Bush Tetras,
Barrington Levy,
Dark Day,
Saccharine Trust,
Lungfish,
The Last Poets,
The Gories,
Gong,
The Misunderstood,
The Kinks,
The Vogues,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-101,
The Martian,
Deakin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.