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 Lebanon and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vladislav Delay,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Womack,
Malaria!,
The Raincoats,
Grandmaster Flash,
Talk Talk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grauzone,
Connie Case,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Make Up,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kerrie Biddell,
Dark Day,
Crooked Eye,
Jawbox,
B.T. Express,
Tomorrow,
June Days,
Quantec,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Victims,
Don Cherry,
the Association,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Real Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Babytalk,
Bill Near,
Moby Grape,
Loose Ends,
The Evens,
Boogie Down Productions,
DNA,
Black Moon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Neil Young,
Brass Construction,
Absolute Body Control,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Sherman,
Outsiders,
Panda Bear,
Surgeon,
Au Pairs,
Heaven 17,
Erykah Badu,
Delta 5,
The Modern Lovers,
The J.B.'s,
The Move,
Motorama,
Mantronix,
Youth Brigade,
Scrapy,
Lindisfarne,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.