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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chris Corsano to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Chrome,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Lydon,
Khruangbin,
Blake Baxter,
Pierre Henry,
Youth Brigade,
Moss Icon,
T.S.O.L.,
Outsiders,
Ten City,
These Immortal Souls,
The Standells,
The Remains,
Black Flag,
Donny Hathaway,
the Association,
Brand Nubian,
The Monochrome Set,
Stetsasonic,
John Foxx,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mummies,
Jacob Miller,
Dennis Brown,
Byron Stingily,
Royal Trux,
Essential Logic,
The Saints,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Crash Course in Science,
The Smiths,
Bobby Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
Eli Mardock,
The Durutti Column,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kenny Larkin,
Tim Buckley,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Rundgren,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Litter,
OOIOO,
Absolute Body Control,
The Pretty Things,
The Fugs,
Talk Talk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.