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 Sierra Leone and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gregory Isaacs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Interpol,
Yazoo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang On A Can,
Rod Modell,
Deakin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Average White Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Television,
The Shadows of Knight,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radiopuhelimet,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Angels of Light,
Cybotron,
The Victims,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rufus Thomas,
Loose Ends,
Tommy Roe,
Roger Hodgson,
The Durutti Column,
Jacob Miller,
Minor Threat,
Sun City Girls,
This Heat,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pulsallama,
T.S.O.L.,
Lower 48,
Saccharine Trust,
Fugazi,
The Fire Engines,
The Happenings,
Blake Baxter,
Icehouse,
Dawn Penn,
Nick Fraelich,
The Divine Comedy,
The Birthday Party,
Michelle Simonal,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Janne Schatter,
Junior Murvin,
Au Pairs,
Ultra Naté,
Jeff Mills,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barrington Levy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blossom Toes,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.