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 Thailand and from Mexico City.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Y Pants to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Malaria!,
The Monochrome Set,
Eric B and Rakim,
June of 44,
Bob Dylan,
Shoche,
Smog,
Tommy Roe,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
Sam Rivers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Traffic Nightmare,
Basic Channel,
Fad Gadget,
The Searchers,
E-Dancer,
Reagan Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Isaac Hayes,
MC5,
One Last Wish,
Donny Hathaway,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-102,
The Selecter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Infiniti,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wire,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
JFA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Neu!,
Skriet,
Skaos,
Grauzone,
The Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hasil Adkins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
Drexciya,
Vladislav Delay,
Stereo Dub,
Animal Collective,
The Raincoats,
8 Eyed Spy,
Janne Schatter,
Faraquet,
D'Angelo,
The Black Dice,
cv313,
Yazoo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.