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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 EPMD to the rock 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
The Slits,
Nik Kershaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Human League,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Intrusion,
The Neon Judgement,
The Young Rascals,
Make Up,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Starr,
The Invisible,
the Sonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Liliput,
The Golliwogs,
Lucky Dragons,
The Moleskins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tommy Roe,
June of 44,
the Germs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arcadia,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Flag,
Idris Muhammad,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed,
The American Breed,
Todd Terry,
Magma,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rapeman,
Das Ding,
The Stooges,
Zero Boys,
Trumans Water,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fatback Band,
AZ,
Animal Collective,
Barry Ungar,
Massinfluence,
The Remains,
Brass Construction,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare,
Andrew Hill,
Desert Stars,
Mr. Review,
Hardrive,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Youth Brigade,
Smog,
Grey Daturas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.