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 Kyrgyzstan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Gichy Dan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Bauhaus,
Fatback Band,
Fat Boys,
Brick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
Nico,
Public Enemy,
The Vogues,
Half Japanese,
DNA,
Tim Buckley,
Curtis Mayfield,
Infiniti,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Interpol,
Alton Ellis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Khruangbin,
Kenny Larkin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
Johnny Clarke,
Connie Case,
A Certain Ratio,
Althea and Donna,
John Coltrane,
Leonard Cohen,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Bananas,
Average White Band,
UT,
Max Romeo,
The New Christs,
John Holt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Busters,
Danielle Patucci,
Rufus Thomas,
T.S.O.L.,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sonics,
The Velvet Underground,
Sister Nancy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camouflage,
Soft Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
World's Most,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Seeds,
Desert Stars,
The Monks,
Porter Ricks,
Swans,
Frankie Knuckles,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.