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 Panama and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Darondo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Boredoms,
The Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
David Bowie,
World's Most,
Talk Talk,
Subhumans,
The Count Five,
Livin' Joy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Flag,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Tremeloes,
Country Teasers,
Arab on Radar,
Clear Light,
The Velvet Underground,
Accadde A,
Half Japanese,
Toni Rubio,
Dark Day,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zero Boys,
Jimmy McGriff,
Television,
X-101,
Robert Wyatt,
The Invisible,
E-Dancer,
The Vogues,
LL Cool J,
Brand Nubian,
The Alarm Clocks,
Audionom,
Rites of Spring,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Bananas,
Kas Product,
Excepter,
Charles Mingus,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Interpol,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pet Shop Boys,
Little Man,
Whodini,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hot Snakes,
The Walker Brothers,
Cluster,
Sarah Menescal,
The Evens,
Spandau Ballet,
Roxy Music,
Goldenarms,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Dave Gahan,
Minor Threat,
Bill Wells,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.