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 Croatia and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 Oneida to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Animal Collective,
Make Up,
DJ Sneak,
Bang On A Can,
Roxette,
Mark Hollis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Susan Cadogan,
Dark Day,
The Knickerbockers,
June Days,
T.S.O.L.,
Silicon Teens,
The Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Eating Sloth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Charles Mingus,
Intrusion,
Peter and Kerry,
The Five Americans,
Scrapy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Buckinghams,
Mad Mike,
Brothers Johnson,
Duran Duran,
In Retrospect,
Newcleus,
La Düsseldorf,
Fugazi,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
Dead Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bad Manners,
Wire,
Warren Ellis,
The Motions,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Stooges,
Grey Daturas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Niagra,
Eddi Front,
a-ha,
The Neon Judgement,
The Moody Blues,
Jandek,
The Move,
Connie Case,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.