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 Namibia and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fugazi,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Monolake,
Spoonie Gee,
Andrew Hill,
Harmonia,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radio Birdman,
New Order,
Zero Boys,
cv313,
Agent Orange,
The Last Poets,
Cymande,
Funky Four + One,
A Certain Ratio,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Slits,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABBA,
Electric Prunes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
JFA,
Dennis Brown,
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
Amon Düül II,
Pantaleimon,
The Monks,
48th St. Collective,
The Gap Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rufus Thomas,
Young Marble Giants,
Darondo,
the Bar-Kays,
Todd Rundgren,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Leaves,
Eric Copeland,
Bob Dylan,
Royal Trux,
Kaleidoscope,
The United States of America,
the Sonics,
Faraquet,
Radiohead,
The Golliwogs,
Kerri Chandler,
OOIOO,
The Searchers,
F. McDonald,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.