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 Indonesia and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the grunge 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Mandrill,
Eurythmics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Radio Birdman,
Amazonics,
Ten City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hasil Adkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Schoolly D,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Todd Rundgren,
MC5,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crooked Eye,
H. Thieme,
Brand Nubian,
Parry Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Flag,
Trumans Water,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scratch Acid,
Kas Product,
Sexual Harrassment,
Model 500,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
48th St. Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Second Layer,
The Angels of Light,
The Velvet Underground,
cv313,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crime,
Audionom,
Bootsy Collins,
Blake Baxter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
The Fortunes,
Sun City Girls,
Pulsallama,
Scientists,
Warsaw,
Dark Day,
Yaz,
Gichy Dan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mojo Men,
Babytalk,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.