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 Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 David Bowie to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Malaria!,
The Tremeloes,
Fatback Band,
Easy Going,
Television Personalities,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Unwound,
PIL,
Vainqueur,
Sun Ra,
The Leaves,
Angry Samoans,
Wolf Eyes,
Ken Boothe,
Guru Guru,
Janne Schatter,
Donald Byrd,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül II,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Saints,
Sunsets and Hearts,
kango's stein massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minny Pops,
Flipper,
Q and Not U,
Sällskapet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oblivians,
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
The Fire Engines,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantaleimon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mr. Review,
Graham Central Station,
Motorama,
The Beau Brummels,
Crime,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronnie Foster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pere Ubu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Divine Comedy,
Eden Ahbez,
Aural Exciters,
Clear Light,
Freddie Wadling,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Goldenarms,
Jawbox,
The Toasters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camouflage,
Half Japanese,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.