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 Tonga and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Michelle Simonal to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eden Ahbez,
Lakeside,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Stooges,
The Real Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Das Ding,
Cal Tjader,
The Dirtbombs,
Heaven 17,
Godley & Creme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joey Negro,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minny Pops,
The Invisible,
Swans,
Niagra,
Johnny Clarke,
Nils Olav,
Chrome,
The Skatalites,
Drive Like Jehu,
Derrick Morgan,
Davy DMX,
Sugar Minott,
EPMD,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Letta Mbulu,
John Lydon,
Josef K,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sister Nancy,
The Music Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Pus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scrapy,
Arcadia,
Henry Cow,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Reagan Youth,
Steve Hackett,
The Residents,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Misunderstood,
the Slits,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Roger Hodgson,
Neil Young,
Cabaret Voltaire,
L. Decosne,
John Cale,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.