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 Palau and from Copenhagen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Victims to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Gang Starr,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Grass Roots,
Freddie Wadling,
Fela Kuti,
Crooked Eye,
Shuggie Otis,
Blossom Toes,
The Walker Brothers,
Depeche Mode,
Sandy B,
Throbbing Gristle,
DJ Sneak,
Qualms,
Scrapy,
Nick Fraelich,
Yellowson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Heaven 17,
The Toasters,
World's Most,
Monks,
Tomorrow,
Joe Smooth,
Joensuu 1685,
Scott Walker,
Tom Boy,
Ultravox,
Prince Buster,
The Fugs,
ABBA,
Technova,
Television Personalities,
Flamin' Groovies,
KRS-One,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Blackbyrds,
Mr. Review,
Sam Rivers,
Mantronix,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tubeway Army,
Cluster,
Magazine,
Joe Finger,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skarface,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Todd Terry,
Eve St. Jones,
Royal Trux,
Cecil Taylor,
Lalann,
Siglo XX,
Carl Craig,
The Raincoats,
Los Fastidios,
Mark Hollis,
Grauzone,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.