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 Guatemala and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Erykah Badu to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Aloha Tigers,
T.S.O.L.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kurtis Blow,
Suicide,
The Birthday Party,
Livin' Joy,
DJ Style,
Gastr Del Sol,
Maurizio,
Sällskapet,
The Beau Brummels,
Charles Mingus,
Joe Smooth,
Fat Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Womack,
Nas,
Kayak,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultra Naté,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Index,
Duran Duran,
Schoolly D,
Mad Mike,
Rotary Connection,
The Stooges,
E-Dancer,
Easy Going,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ice-T,
Fear,
Guru Guru,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dual Sessions,
Hasil Adkins,
Patti Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Porter Ricks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pantytec,
Joey Negro,
Motorama,
Kaleidoscope,
Wolf Eyes,
KRS-One,
Lindisfarne,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Agent Orange,
Q65,
The Real Kids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moebius,
Mission of Burma,
Lower 48,
UT,
Aaron Thompson,
Roxy Music,
The Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.