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 Serbia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Moody Blues to the dance 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Severed Heads,
Dorothy Ashby,
Davy DMX,
Hoover,
June of 44,
Drive Like Jehu,
Unrelated Segments,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fad Gadget,
The Index,
Accadde A,
Patti Smith,
The Mummies,
Khruangbin,
Arcadia,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fugazi,
Sixth Finger,
John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
The Blues Magoos,
The Detroit Cobras,
The United States of America,
Eurythmics,
Lungfish,
Nick Fraelich,
Barclay James Harvest,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Q and Not U,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
The Music Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Absolute Body Control,
Popol Vuh,
Intrusion,
Nas,
Stetsasonic,
Arthur Verocai,
Ice-T,
Public Enemy,
Johnny Clarke,
Kurtis Blow,
Reuben Wilson,
Negative Approach,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Green,
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
The Five Americans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cramps,
The Fugs,
The Real Kids,
Can,
China Crisis,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.