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 Brunei and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rock 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Kinks,
Lower 48,
Supertramp,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Flag,
Crooked Eye,
Althea and Donna,
Soulsonic Force,
Amon Düül,
Gastr Del Sol,
Von Mondo,
James White and The Blacks,
Donny Hathaway,
Moss Icon,
Hot Snakes,
Slick Rick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
H. Thieme,
Fela Kuti,
John Lydon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Rod Modell,
Q and Not U,
The Motions,
The Dead C,
Tom Boy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pussy Galore,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sixth Finger,
Carl Craig,
Brand Nubian,
Anthony Braxton,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gun Club,
Lalann,
X-102,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Angels of Light,
Mantronix,
Jeff Mills,
Erykah Badu,
Sight & Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pierre Henry,
Negative Approach,
Cymande,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roxy Music,
Derrick May,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Residents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
David Bowie,
Masters at Work,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.