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 Bremen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pole to the disco 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Isaac Hayes,
The Index,
Gang Green,
Bill Wells,
The Moleskins,
Ituana,
June of 44,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Zero Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Germs,
Cal Tjader,
Fugazi,
Bronski Beat,
John Coltrane,
The Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
Technova,
Sex Pistols,
Brick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slave,
Bluetip,
Kerrie Biddell,
David Axelrod,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Kinks,
Lalann,
Public Image Ltd.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Porter Ricks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tres Demented,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DJ Sneak,
Freddie Wadling,
Sam Rivers,
Livin' Joy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skarface,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
Warren Ellis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Searchers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yaz,
Hardrive,
Television,
ABC,
Intrusion,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Circle Jerks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fad Gadget,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Newcleus,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.