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 Austria and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron 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 Jeru the Damaja to the punk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Smoke,
The Golliwogs,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Starr,
Swell Maps,
Sexual Harrassment,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Desert Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Association,
The Vogues,
The Five Americans,
Sam Rivers,
Hardrive,
Archie Shepp,
The Kinks,
the Germs,
Carl Craig,
Todd Rundgren,
Talk Talk,
Pierre Henry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Derrick May,
X-102,
Drexciya,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Searchers,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
The Toasters,
Amon Düül II,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonny Sharrock,
Absolute Body Control,
The Star Department,
The Last Poets,
Quadrant,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Sheep,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kayak,
Popol Vuh,
OOIOO,
The Red Krayola,
Public Enemy,
This Heat,
The Martian,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric B and Rakim,
Porter Ricks,
Roxette,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter & Gordon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pantaleimon,
48th St. Collective,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.