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 Niger and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Camouflage to the grime 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eddi Front,
Supertramp,
Man Parrish,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marmalade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Durutti Column,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Blues Magoos,
Scratch Acid,
Steve Hackett,
Intrusion,
The Fugs,
Oblivians,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Coltrane,
The Monochrome Set,
Darondo,
Barry Ungar,
John Lydon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Beau Brummels,
David Bowie,
Interpol,
Hasil Adkins,
Scion,
Thee Headcoats,
Danielle Patucci,
Theoretical Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funkadelic,
World's Most,
Siglo XX,
Arcadia,
Anthony Braxton,
Schoolly D,
Slick Rick,
Aloha Tigers,
The Young Rascals,
Althea and Donna,
Angry Samoans,
a-ha,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mark Hollis,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Shadows of Knight,
Motorama,
Soul II Soul,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Little Man,
Index,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Soulsonic Force,
Avey Tare,
Fear,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.