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 Bahrain and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ornette Coleman to the funk 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Matthew Halsall,
Liliput,
Todd Rundgren,
David Axelrod,
Ten City,
Pole,
Radiopuhelimet,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacques Brel,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mark Hollis,
Warren Ellis,
The Move,
Alice Coltrane,
The Residents,
This Heat,
Lyres,
Amon Düül II,
Das Ding,
Lindisfarne,
Black Moon,
The Cowsills,
Tears for Fears,
Kool Moe Dee,
R.M.O.,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
Idris Muhammad,
E-Dancer,
The Misunderstood,
B.T. Express,
Gong,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sam Rivers,
Traffic Nightmare,
DNA,
Erykah Badu,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Soft Cell,
AZ,
Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
DJ Style,
The Vogues,
Ornette Coleman,
The Remains,
Clear Light,
Jawbox,
H. Thieme,
John Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skaos,
Mars,
Hasil Adkins,
Unwound,
Average White Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Massinfluence,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.