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 Kazakhstan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Robert Palmer 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 Stockholm Monsters to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Franke,
Gang Green,
the Sonics,
Don Cherry,
Swans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bang On A Can,
The Gun Club,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Index,
the Slits,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Sonics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
E-Dancer,
The Pop Group,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brick,
Accadde A,
Country Teasers,
Sun City Girls,
Whodini,
The Monochrome Set,
The Gladiators,
Bill Near,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scrapy,
Peter and Kerry,
The Walker Brothers,
Cameo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
Negative Approach,
Colin Newman,
The Leaves,
DNA,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scientists,
The Saints,
Blancmange,
EPMD,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arthur Verocai,
World's Most,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Busters,
Monks,
Barbara Tucker,
Audionom,
Stetsasonic,
Judy Mowatt,
Sex Pistols,
The Dirtbombs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Albert Ayler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.