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 Guyana and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Yaz to the techno 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
New Age Steppers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Angels of Light,
Glenn Branca,
Eric B and Rakim,
Smog,
The Misunderstood,
the Soft Cell,
The Seeds,
Magazine,
Vainqueur,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultra Naté,
The Victims,
K-Klass,
China Crisis,
Ronnie Foster,
The Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
Warsaw,
Chrome,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Swans,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aswad,
Bob Dylan,
R.M.O.,
Flamin' Groovies,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Barracudas,
This Heat,
Second Layer,
Marmalade,
Thee Headcoats,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
Slave,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Derrick May,
Cecil Taylor,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Main Source,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Brothers Johnson,
Moss Icon,
Parry Music,
Hardrive,
Marvin Gaye,
The Zeros,
Siglo XX,
Aloha Tigers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Busters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.