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 Uzbekistan and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 The Cowsills to the jazz 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Fatback Band,
Radiohead,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dead C,
Audionom,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gories,
Glenn Branca,
The Sound,
Scientists,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Kenny Larkin,
Davy DMX,
Skriet,
Sam Rivers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Moon,
Moss Icon,
Faraquet,
Scratch Acid,
Severed Heads,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Litter,
The Vogues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Beau Brummels,
Marvin Gaye,
Gregory Isaacs,
Toni Rubio,
Mantronix,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Womack,
Rapeman,
Ronan,
Sixth Finger,
Absolute Body Control,
The Saints,
The Raincoats,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Count Five,
This Heat,
Freddie Wadling,
Surgeon,
Niagra,
Eric Dolphy,
Donald Byrd,
The Human League,
Peter & Gordon,
The Buckinghams,
Main Source,
Nirvana,
Brick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Cale,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.