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 Singapore 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Masters at Work,
Ornette Coleman,
Tim Buckley,
The Five Americans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kenny Larkin,
The Evens,
Duran Duran,
Mad Mike,
Jacob Miller,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Normal,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Mummies,
Fat Boys,
Glenn Branca,
Nik Kershaw,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Agent Orange,
Barrington Levy,
James White and The Blacks,
Porter Ricks,
JFA,
The Zeros,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slits,
Surgeon,
The Pretty Things,
Saccharine Trust,
Young Marble Giants,
New York Dolls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
a-ha,
Jacques Brel,
Grauzone,
Brass Construction,
Zapp,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Almond,
Deadbeat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arcadia,
Max Romeo,
John Cale,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Flesh Eaters,
R.M.O.,
Minnie Riperton,
A Certain Ratio,
the Association,
Blossom Toes,
Mission of Burma,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Anthony Braxton,
Scott Walker,
The Fugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.