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 Tunisia and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Donald Fagen 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the jazz 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Soul II Soul,
Ituana,
Max Romeo,
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
The Martian,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
ABC,
Bang On A Can,
Marmalade,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerri Chandler,
One Last Wish,
L. Decosne,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fluxion,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mantronix,
Sight & Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pagans,
Crime,
Blossom Toes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
MDC,
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
Prince Buster,
Cymande,
Archie Shepp,
Ossler,
Easy Going,
Suicide,
Warsaw,
Lakeside,
The Misunderstood,
Carl Craig,
Camouflage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Malaria!,
Sex Pistols,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
Little Man,
Tears for Fears,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brass Construction,
Tim Buckley,
Glenn Branca,
Visage,
Joey Negro,
The Pretty Things,
The Music Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Masters at Work,
Hoover,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.