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 Belize and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Davy DMX to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Monks,
Fugazi,
The Cowsills,
Adolescents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joe Finger,
Amazonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Agent Orange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nas,
The Moody Blues,
Henry Cow,
Brothers Johnson,
UT,
Hasil Adkins,
the Association,
The Doors,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Connie Case,
Scientists,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Brass Construction,
The Red Krayola,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Moon,
Camouflage,
Davy DMX,
T.S.O.L.,
The Mummies,
Heaven 17,
Parry Music,
Pussy Galore,
MDC,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Black Dice,
Mars,
Radiohead,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mad Mike,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
James White and The Blacks,
The Count Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Brick,
Marshall Jefferson,
Angry Samoans,
The Divine Comedy,
Saccharine Trust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Leaves,
Lalann,
Michelle Simonal,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.