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 Liechtenstein and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
Con Funk Shun,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Star Department,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fatback Band,
Sam Rivers,
FM Einheit,
Cluster,
China Crisis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Toasters,
John Lydon,
Technova,
Depeche Mode,
Newcleus,
Cecil Taylor,
Easy Going,
Leonard Cohen,
Neu!,
PIL,
Nik Kershaw,
Radiohead,
Alison Limerick,
Model 500,
Eve St. Jones,
Skriet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blancmange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joy Division,
Pantaleimon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Walker Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
Q65,
Derrick May,
Rekid,
Jacob Miller,
Yaz,
Suburban Knight,
Intrusion,
Monolake,
Ultravox,
Donald Byrd,
Fugazi,
The Flesh Eaters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Normal,
The Fortunes,
June of 44,
Zapp,
John Holt,
Lou Christie,
DJ Style,
The Smoke,
Basic Channel,
The Velvet Underground,
Bang On A Can,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.