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 France and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cecil Taylor to the crunk 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Drexciya,
The Electric Prunes,
A Certain Ratio,
Pantytec,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minor Threat,
Kerri Chandler,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Section 25,
Morten Harket,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Starr,
The Blues Magoos,
Goldenarms,
Pantaleimon,
Outsiders,
Hot Snakes,
Ronnie Foster,
June Days,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
Alison Limerick,
Crime,
Talk Talk,
MC5,
H. Thieme,
Porter Ricks,
The Monochrome Set,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mission of Burma,
Popol Vuh,
Bluetip,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Flash Fearless,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Boredoms,
Warsaw,
Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Toasters,
Newcleus,
Fugazi,
the Association,
Janne Schatter,
The Martian,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Christie,
Black Flag,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Schoolly D,
The Black Dice,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soft Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
Radio Birdman,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.