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 Greece and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rap 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Bob Dylan,
Hoover,
Bill Wells,
Lakeside,
David McCallum,
Delon & Dalcan,
Massinfluence,
Funkadelic,
Ultravox,
DJ Sneak,
Guru Guru,
The Kinks,
Brothers Johnson,
Oneida,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gap Band,
Barry Ungar,
The Cowsills,
The Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Andrew Hill,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones,
The Martian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wasted Youth,
Derrick May,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
John Coltrane,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scrapy,
Kenny Larkin,
Isaac Hayes,
KRS-One,
Peter & Gordon,
Q and Not U,
Silicon Teens,
The American Breed,
Lou Reed,
Dark Day,
Black Moon,
Liliput,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Unrelated Segments,
The Divine Comedy,
A Certain Ratio,
Nick Fraelich,
Soul Sonic Force,
Whodini,
Scan 7,
the Soft Cell,
Slave,
In Retrospect,
Colin Newman,
Rites of Spring,
The Pretty Things,
Aloha Tigers,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.