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 Liberia and from Columbus.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the electroclash 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Pantaleimon,
U.S. Maple,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
F. McDonald,
Al Stewart,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Isaac Hayes,
Fear,
Kurtis Blow,
The Last Poets,
Mandrill,
Glambeats Corp.,
Symarip,
Camberwell Now,
Deadbeat,
Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Archie Shepp,
Blossom Toes,
The Slits,
Fluxion,
Supertramp,
the Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
The Move,
Suicide,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Chris & Cosey,
The Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Andrew Hill,
Angry Samoans,
Ponytail,
Skriet,
Minny Pops,
Howard Jones,
The Sonics,
Peter and Kerry,
The Standells,
David Axelrod,
Cameo,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
Absolute Body Control,
Wally Richardson,
Black Moon,
the Fania All-Stars,
June Days,
EPMD,
Excepter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Funky Four + One,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.