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 Colombia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar 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 Nas to the rap 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
The Red Krayola,
MC5,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Young Rascals,
Popol Vuh,
Country Teasers,
Tres Demented,
Yaz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Malaria!,
Bronski Beat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tubeway Army,
Scion,
Fatback Band,
Dark Day,
EPMD,
The Durutti Column,
Alison Limerick,
The Beau Brummels,
Sugar Minott,
Curtis Mayfield,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masters at Work,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kerrie Biddell,
MDC,
John Cale,
Crispy Ambulance,
Model 500,
Andrew Hill,
Drive Like Jehu,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare,
Reuben Wilson,
Donny Hathaway,
Angry Samoans,
Technova,
The Grass Roots,
The Kinks,
Todd Rundgren,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Khruangbin,
The Angels of Light,
Flash Fearless,
Fugazi,
The Wake,
Pole,
Index,
Drexciya,
Funkadelic,
Yazoo,
Marvin Gaye,
Royal Trux,
Pagans,
Oblivians,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.