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 Cyprus and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cecil Taylor to the crunk 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
Yellowson,
Interpol,
Rotary Connection,
Hot Snakes,
The Slits,
Ponytail,
Inner City,
Minutemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Outsiders,
Groovy Waters,
Fela Kuti,
Neil Young,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barrington Levy,
A Certain Ratio,
Intrusion,
Todd Rundgren,
Pierre Henry,
Livin' Joy,
Gang of Four,
The Residents,
Average White Band,
Dual Sessions,
Crooked Eye,
Magazine,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Animal Collective,
Rakim,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Subhumans,
Sam Rivers,
Leonard Cohen,
ABBA,
Fear,
Hashim,
K-Klass,
The Barracudas,
DJ Sneak,
Jacob Miller,
John Lydon,
Ultra Naté,
Bush Tetras,
Accadde A,
Pantytec,
Tears for Fears,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Pus,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Almond,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wolf Eyes,
Warren Ellis,
Talk Talk,
The United States of America,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.