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 Sri Lanka and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Mr. Review,
Liliput,
Faust,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry's Kids,
Marvin Gaye,
Inner City,
The Golliwogs,
Donny Hathaway,
T.S.O.L.,
June of 44,
Pantaleimon,
Erykah Badu,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Smog,
Eric Copeland,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The New Christs,
Sarah Menescal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Motions,
ABC,
Ice-T,
Theoretical Girls,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
UT,
The Kinks,
Jeff Lynne,
Moebius,
Scrapy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dead Boys,
Alison Limerick,
The Last Poets,
Underground Resistance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camberwell Now,
Wire,
Cal Tjader,
Josef K,
Reuben Wilson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Spoonie Gee,
Surgeon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Ken Boothe,
Country Teasers,
Joy Division,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Interpol,
The Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.