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 Kiribati and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Vladislav Delay to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ossler,
Con Funk Shun,
cv313,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Spandau Ballet,
Symarip,
the Normal,
David McCallum,
Wally Richardson,
Bang On A Can,
Index,
John Foxx,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Young Marble Giants,
The Real Kids,
Desert Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kenny Larkin,
Johnny Clarke,
The Last Poets,
Soul II Soul,
Maleditus Sound,
Trumans Water,
The Golliwogs,
Malaria!,
The Angels of Light,
Rotary Connection,
Althea and Donna,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suburban Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
Anthony Braxton,
Yazoo,
Au Pairs,
Ice-T,
Tubeway Army,
Gong,
The Cure,
The Techniques,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Freddie Wadling,
Warren Ellis,
The Cowsills,
Toni Rubio,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sugar Minott,
Flipper,
Bill Near,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kurtis Blow,
Peter & Gordon,
The Count Five,
Kayak,
Carl Craig,
Ronan,
Porter Ricks,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.