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 Botswana and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Parry Music to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Dark Day,
PIL,
Gang Starr,
Marine Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Sugar Minott,
Terry Callier,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Associates,
Bob Dylan,
Deadbeat,
The Remains,
Peter and Kerry,
June of 44,
Newcleus,
Franke,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
A Certain Ratio,
Brass Construction,
10cc,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Michelle Simonal,
Shuggie Otis,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül,
Tom Boy,
Silicon Teens,
Nils Olav,
Rakim,
Index,
Television,
Andrew Hill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brand Nubian,
MDC,
Talk Talk,
The Wake,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wings,
The Gladiators,
Cal Tjader,
Nico,
Fluxion,
UT,
Ice-T,
The Mummies,
Surgeon,
Hasil Adkins,
The Techniques,
Al Stewart,
The Divine Comedy,
B.T. Express,
Massinfluence,
The Names,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scrapy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.