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 Costa Rica and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Minor Threat to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
Terry Callier,
Con Funk Shun,
Reagan Youth,
Groovy Waters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joe Smooth,
Cymande,
Yellowson,
FM Einheit,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cluster,
James White and The Blacks,
Scratch Acid,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cowsills,
MDC,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Freddie Wadling,
Franke,
Magazine,
Icehouse,
Moby Grape,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cure,
Graham Central Station,
Tropical Tobacco,
Camberwell Now,
Skriet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oneida,
Moss Icon,
Jandek,
Section 25,
Josef K,
Rekid,
Stetsasonic,
ABBA,
the Human League,
Black Sheep,
Amon Düül,
Aaron Thompson,
Desert Stars,
Todd Terry,
Nirvana,
Ralphi Rosario,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
La Düsseldorf,
10cc,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Derrick May,
Jawbox,
Kurtis Blow,
Sight & Sound,
Audionom,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Man Parrish,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.