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 Solomon Islands and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Colin Newman to the punk 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cure,
Schoolly D,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeff Mills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pulsallama,
Main Source,
Sonic Youth,
Byron Stingily,
10cc,
Alphaville,
Arab on Radar,
Khruangbin,
Eve St. Jones,
Bush Tetras,
In Retrospect,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Con Funk Shun,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kerri Chandler,
Rekid,
Slick Rick,
Jawbox,
Lyres,
Bronski Beat,
Dark Day,
The Stooges,
Excepter,
Suicide,
Loose Ends,
The Star Department,
The Last Poets,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Smog,
Hardrive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dave Gahan,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Radiopuhelimet,
Deepchord,
Trumans Water,
Unrelated Segments,
Jeff Lynne,
Clear Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lindisfarne,
Sister Nancy,
a-ha,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
AZ,
Derrick Morgan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pierre Henry,
The Motions,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.