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 Benin and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Yellowson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Zapp,
Symarip,
Arthur Verocai,
June of 44,
Jeff Mills,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Carl Craig,
The Blackbyrds,
the Normal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Whodini,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cowsills,
Gang Green,
Cybotron,
Electric Prunes,
KRS-One,
Blake Baxter,
Fat Boys,
The Black Dice,
Joe Smooth,
Warsaw,
Monolake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Television,
The Red Krayola,
Rakim,
Idris Muhammad,
Henry Cow,
The Fugs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Khruangbin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reagan Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crash Course in Science,
Isaac Hayes,
Amazonics,
The Kinks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Golliwogs,
These Immortal Souls,
Lower 48,
DNA,
Wolf Eyes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Drexciya,
The Gladiators,
K-Klass,
Cheater Slicks,
Altered Images,
Little Man,
Massinfluence,
The Fuzztones,
The Associates,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Sheep,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.