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 Togo and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Flamin' Groovies to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Gladiators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Swell Maps,
The Fortunes,
The Human League,
Ossler,
Bobby Byrd,
Joey Negro,
Lower 48,
Los Fastidios,
Smog,
The Grass Roots,
New Order,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
U.S. Maple,
X-101,
Tim Buckley,
Anakelly,
The Vogues,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nils Olav,
Don Cherry,
The American Breed,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Blossom Toes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Panda Bear,
Thee Headcoats,
Sonic Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Starr,
Duran Duran,
Kerri Chandler,
John Lydon,
Minnie Riperton,
Circle Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Index,
Camouflage,
Basic Channel,
Youth Brigade,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Almond,
World's Most,
Pole,
Camberwell Now,
UT,
Sun City Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Organ,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.