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 Afghanistan and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Vainqueur to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Siglo XX,
Chrome,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gichy Dan,
Minnie Riperton,
Outsiders,
Iggy Pop,
the Bar-Kays,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Electric Prunes,
Magma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-102,
A Certain Ratio,
Charles Mingus,
Pylon,
Monks,
Audionom,
Anthony Braxton,
The Smiths,
Qualms,
Kerri Chandler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grey Daturas,
Tim Buckley,
The Skatalites,
Nirvana,
Joy Division,
Kenny Larkin,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
Chris & Cosey,
Grauzone,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Groovy Waters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Scott Walker,
Davy DMX,
Sonic Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Echospace,
Alice Coltrane,
Mary Jane Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
The Flesh Eaters,
Masters at Work,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Last Poets,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Modern Lovers,
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.