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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Wally Richardson to the punk 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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Lydon,
Gichy Dan,
Stereo Dub,
Whodini,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DJ Sneak,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ronan,
Flash Fearless,
Soul II Soul,
The Litter,
Leonard Cohen,
The Golliwogs,
The Smiths,
Rod Modell,
Ultra Naté,
Icehouse,
David Axelrod,
MC5,
Funkadelic,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Smoke,
Bluetip,
Arab on Radar,
Duran Duran,
Dave Gahan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Bourne,
Amon Düül,
Don Cherry,
Donny Hathaway,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sam Rivers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Young Rascals,
Junior Murvin,
New Age Steppers,
Dawn Penn,
Pulsallama,
Das Ding,
Niagra,
Circle Jerks,
Roxette,
Joey Negro,
Theoretical Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Visage,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The New Christs,
The Move,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Görl,
L. Decosne,
Pagans,
Swell Maps,
Index,
Mad Mike,
The Cramps,
Janne Schatter,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.