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 Chile and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blues Magoos to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Cal Tjader,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Surgeon,
Al Stewart,
Archie Shepp,
Bill Near,
Arthur Verocai,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joy Division,
DJ Sneak,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter & Gordon,
U.S. Maple,
Judy Mowatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Second Layer,
The Dirtbombs,
John Coltrane,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soul II Soul,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nico,
Soft Cell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Sherman,
PIL,
The Angels of Light,
Dark Day,
Clear Light,
Livin' Joy,
H. Thieme,
Ornette Coleman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Wells,
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
Delta 5,
Cameo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Blackbyrds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bush Tetras,
The New Christs,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy Collins,
The Evens,
The Durutti Column,
Masters at Work,
Ohio Players,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.