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 Costa Rica and from Tehran.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Ken Boothe,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Althea and Donna,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric Dolphy,
Junior Murvin,
Boredoms,
Minutemen,
Scientists,
Kenny Larkin,
Tubeway Army,
the Human League,
Lalo Schifrin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Animal Collective,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Swell Maps,
Aloha Tigers,
The Kinks,
Godley & Creme,
Todd Terry,
Andrew Hill,
Icehouse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Guru Guru,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gil Scott Heron,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Smooth,
Moby Grape,
Goldenarms,
David Axelrod,
Mr. Review,
The Angels of Light,
One Last Wish,
Max Romeo,
The Pop Group,
Pagans,
Joyce Sims,
Cybotron,
Ultimate Spinach,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Litter,
Franke,
Ludus,
Harmonia,
Joensuu 1685,
Amazonics,
The Index,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks,
the Germs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Archie Shepp,
Pere Ubu,
Fat Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Near,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.