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 Turkmenistan and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oblivians to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Lyres,
Country Teasers,
Iggy Pop,
Quadrant,
The Slackers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gories,
Deakin,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Detroit Cobras,
June of 44,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeff Lynne,
Symarip,
the Swans,
U.S. Maple,
The Fortunes,
Joe Smooth,
Deadbeat,
Easy Going,
In Retrospect,
Eurythmics,
The Busters,
Marc Almond,
Susan Cadogan,
Don Cherry,
Sun Ra,
Silicon Teens,
The Sound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fatback Band,
Erasure,
Pussy Galore,
The Blues Magoos,
Pole,
Crash Course in Science,
Hardrive,
DJ Style,
The New Christs,
The Birthday Party,
Quando Quango,
The Fugs,
Magma,
Skriet,
Matthew Bourne,
Steve Hackett,
Camberwell Now,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spandau Ballet,
Eden Ahbez,
8 Eyed Spy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mark Hollis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minutemen,
Liliput,
Ossler,
Ice-T,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.