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 Sierra Leone and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 Byron Stingily to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Michelle Simonal,
Spoonie Gee,
The Kinks,
Bang On A Can,
Gang of Four,
Marshall Jefferson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dead Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
X-Ray Spex,
Gastr Del Sol,
Janne Schatter,
John Coltrane,
DJ Style,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joyce Sims,
Cecil Taylor,
DNA,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Flag,
Radiohead,
Aswad,
Circle Jerks,
Marvin Gaye,
Pussy Galore,
Half Japanese,
Don Cherry,
Glenn Branca,
The Beau Brummels,
Monolake,
The Leaves,
Deadbeat,
DJ Sneak,
Harpers Bizarre,
Graham Central Station,
Oblivians,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Danielle Patucci,
The Residents,
The Slackers,
cv313,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June of 44,
Jacques Brel,
Hoover,
Kerri Chandler,
Pharoah Sanders,
Qualms,
The Stooges,
Gong,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scion,
Animal Collective,
Franke,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.