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 Iran and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Blues Magoos,
KRS-One,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Heaven 17,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
Vladislav Delay,
B.T. Express,
Y Pants,
AZ,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ultra Naté,
Toni Rubio,
Don Cherry,
Arab on Radar,
Magma,
Metal Thangz,
Angry Samoans,
Deadbeat,
the Association,
Tommy Roe,
Barrington Levy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grey Daturas,
Sandy B,
Prince Buster,
Darondo,
Chris & Cosey,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeff Lynne,
Deakin,
Jacob Miller,
Sugar Minott,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neil Young,
Buzzcocks,
Mark Hollis,
Sound Behaviour,
Eric Copeland,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Mills,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Negative Approach,
The Knickerbockers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Motorama,
PIL,
The Leaves,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fugazi,
Smog,
Pagans,
The Skatalites,
X-101,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
Pussy Galore,
Laurel Aitken,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.