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 Saudi Arabia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Minnie Riperton to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Moleskins,
Swans,
Outsiders,
Dorothy Ashby,
Q65,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oneida,
The Blackbyrds,
The Count Five,
Intrusion,
Sex Pistols,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
The Cowsills,
Interpol,
Cymande,
Easy Going,
Popol Vuh,
Harpers Bizarre,
Adolescents,
T. Rex,
Kenny Larkin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Motorama,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
L. Decosne,
Hoover,
Sonic Youth,
The Grass Roots,
Groovy Waters,
Television Personalities,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rufus Thomas,
DJ Sneak,
The Toasters,
Erasure,
B.T. Express,
Rotary Connection,
EPMD,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül II,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minor Threat,
Nick Fraelich,
JFA,
The Vogues,
Henry Cow,
Mad Mike,
Absolute Body Control,
Con Funk Shun,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barclay James Harvest,
Porter Ricks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Q and Not U,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Enemy,
Black Bananas,
Circle Jerks,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.