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 Suriname 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Pere Ubu to the disco 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Reagan Youth,
10cc,
Funkadelic,
Talk Talk,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
R.M.O.,
Chris Corsano,
Public Enemy,
Eli Mardock,
Excepter,
Davy DMX,
The J.B.'s,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cymande,
Ash Ra Tempel,
James White and The Blacks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Archie Shepp,
DJ Sneak,
Pantaleimon,
Connie Case,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fugs,
Bobby Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Holt,
Yazoo,
Stereo Dub,
Crime,
The Index,
Brothers Johnson,
Dawn Penn,
Cal Tjader,
Barry Ungar,
Siglo XX,
F. McDonald,
Nik Kershaw,
Gregory Isaacs,
Livin' Joy,
Sight & Sound,
Pantytec,
Unrelated Segments,
The Evens,
Blake Baxter,
CMW,
Erasure,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fuzztones,
La Düsseldorf,
Tom Boy,
Vainqueur,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joensuu 1685,
Scientists,
L. Decosne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sam Rivers,
Panda Bear,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.