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 Japan and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Mark Hollis,
Talk Talk,
Nas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soulsonic Force,
Faust,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Laurel Aitken,
Bob Dylan,
The Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lungfish,
Andrew Hill,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DNA,
Organ,
Kerri Chandler,
Inner City,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Reed,
Icehouse,
Dark Day,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Index,
Tres Demented,
Prince Buster,
Pantytec,
the Slits,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Residents,
Das Ding,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
Bootsy Collins,
Kaleidoscope,
Malaria!,
Underground Resistance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fluxion,
Terry Callier,
The Wake,
Alice Coltrane,
Faraquet,
Niagra,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Visage,
The Busters,
The Trojans,
Gang of Four,
The Cowsills,
Gichy Dan,
Siglo XX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Smiths,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Magma,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.