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 Lithuania and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Excepter to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Henry Cow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Faust,
Hasil Adkins,
48th St. Collective,
Chris Corsano,
Rekid,
Amon Düül II,
The Kinks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Derrick Morgan,
Das Ding,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dirtbombs,
Wolf Eyes,
Mo-Dettes,
Surgeon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Howard Jones,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bobby Womack,
The Moleskins,
Vladislav Delay,
Bluetip,
The Standells,
Judy Mowatt,
the Swans,
The Trojans,
The Seeds,
Camouflage,
Andrew Hill,
Junior Murvin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hashim,
Steve Hackett,
New Order,
Roxette,
Maurizio,
The Five Americans,
Mandrill,
The Alarm Clocks,
Isaac Hayes,
Crooked Eye,
Loose Ends,
Saccharine Trust,
Alison Limerick,
Gang of Four,
Jerry's Kids,
Nico,
Charles Mingus,
Basic Channel,
The Martian,
DJ Sneak,
Nirvana,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Todd Terry,
Letta Mbulu,
Harmonia,
Radio Birdman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Toni Rubio,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.