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 Slovakia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rites of Spring to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound 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?
Bluetip,
Tropical Tobacco,
Icehouse,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crash Course in Science,
Chrome,
Pet Shop Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
Skaos,
Joy Division,
Loose Ends,
Clear Light,
CMW,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Laurel Aitken,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lindisfarne,
Ossler,
Anthony Braxton,
Deepchord,
Blancmange,
X-102,
The Fugs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cowsills,
Funkadelic,
Matthew Bourne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Suicide,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tres Demented,
Moebius,
MDC,
Dawn Penn,
The Dirtbombs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soul II Soul,
Mars,
Black Bananas,
The United States of America,
D'Angelo,
Connie Case,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cluster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minny Pops,
Maleditus Sound,
Minutemen,
Tommy Roe,
Silicon Teens,
Fad Gadget,
Marvin Gaye,
Heaven 17,
Black Flag,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.