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 Somalia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Gerry Rafferty to the rap 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers 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?
Glenn Branca,
Sixth Finger,
The Stooges,
La Düsseldorf,
Moss Icon,
Wire,
The American Breed,
The Martian,
Agent Orange,
The Angels of Light,
Chris & Cosey,
Judy Mowatt,
Ornette Coleman,
Funkadelic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Simply Red,
10cc,
Alphaville,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sam Rivers,
Cybotron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Invisible,
X-101,
Moebius,
Fela Kuti,
Buzzcocks,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Big Daddy Kane,
Absolute Body Control,
Monks,
Tubeway Army,
Albert Ayler,
The Fire Engines,
Fugazi,
Basic Channel,
U.S. Maple,
Chris Corsano,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jacob Miller,
Y Pants,
The Skatalites,
DNA,
Shoche,
David Bowie,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alice Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Divine Comedy,
Mission of Burma,
The Remains,
Theoretical Girls,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.