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 Monaco and from Spokane.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Doobie Brothers to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Flipper,
Buzzcocks,
Bob Dylan,
Tubeway Army,
Funky Four + One,
Sight & Sound,
Basic Channel,
The Skatalites,
The Index,
Ituana,
Bizarre Inc.,
Royal Trux,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boredoms,
Angry Samoans,
OOIOO,
The Real Kids,
Swans,
Silicon Teens,
the Association,
David Bowie,
Nils Olav,
The Seeds,
The Durutti Column,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Livin' Joy,
The Barracudas,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Neil Young,
Radio Birdman,
The American Breed,
Eden Ahbez,
H. Thieme,
kango's stein massive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-102,
Lou Reed,
Harry Pussy,
Rhythm & Sound,
New Age Steppers,
The Human League,
Scott Walker,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Nico,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Kinks,
Alphaville,
the Normal,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Walker Brothers,
Moby Grape,
The Fuzztones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.