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 Namibia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Monks to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Rod Modell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Schoolly D,
June Days,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nas,
Yusef Lateef,
Sparks,
Ken Boothe,
Lindisfarne,
The Seeds,
The Victims,
Mad Mike,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Motions,
Blossom Toes,
Ohio Players,
Supertramp,
Chris Corsano,
Spoonie Gee,
Country Teasers,
Sugar Minott,
Tomorrow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mars,
Slave,
Oneida,
Drexciya,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter and Kerry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
The Searchers,
Con Funk Shun,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pierre Henry,
Outsiders,
Tom Boy,
China Crisis,
Cymande,
Brand Nubian,
Arthur Verocai,
Hoover,
Eli Mardock,
The Last Poets,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül,
The Moleskins,
Al Stewart,
Gang Gang Dance,
Trumans Water,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
The United States of America,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donny Hathaway,
Joyce Sims,
Talk Talk,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.