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 Ireland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jacob Miller to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Symarip,
Amon Düül,
Eden Ahbez,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
B.T. Express,
Stetsasonic,
Fugazi,
Cybotron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pulsallama,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fortunes,
Marine Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bob Dylan,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Litter,
FM Einheit,
Von Mondo,
David Axelrod,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott Heron,
Shuggie Otis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Al Stewart,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Talk Talk,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pantaleimon,
Iggy Pop,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
The Trojans,
Junior Murvin,
Dennis Brown,
Con Funk Shun,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tres Demented,
Massinfluence,
Eric Copeland,
LL Cool J,
Neu!,
Maurizio,
Tim Buckley,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pantytec,
Qualms,
Connie Case,
Half Japanese,
Sugar Minott,
Absolute Body Control,
Jawbox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suicide,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.