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 Thailand and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Big Daddy Kane to the grunge 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Kayak,
The Doors,
Little Man,
Model 500,
X-Ray Spex,
Jacques Brel,
Rites of Spring,
Mission of Burma,
Grandmaster Flash,
Todd Terry,
Magma,
Rapeman,
The Cramps,
Electric Prunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Underground Resistance,
Smog,
The Smoke,
the Swans,
Make Up,
Suburban Knight,
Duran Duran,
Black Sheep,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric Copeland,
Kerri Chandler,
Joe Smooth,
Television,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scientists,
Spoonie Gee,
Massinfluence,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Bourne,
Supertramp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Unwound,
The Offenders,
Scratch Acid,
The Fire Engines,
The Zeros,
Amazonics,
Q65,
Circle Jerks,
Nirvana,
Cal Tjader,
Hashim,
Goldenarms,
EPMD,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Pus,
Chris & Cosey,
Section 25,
Mars,
The Trojans,
Reuben Wilson,
Wasted Youth,
Todd Rundgren,
Sam Rivers,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.