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 Estonia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Bang On A Can,
Hoover,
Ornette Coleman,
Royal Trux,
Altered Images,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Womack,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ken Boothe,
DJ Sneak,
The Fall,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Khruangbin,
Crime,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Offenders,
Minutemen,
Sixth Finger,
Roxette,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gichy Dan,
the Association,
Can,
Mandrill,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Residents,
Sällskapet,
Jacques Brel,
Animal Collective,
Swans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Oneida,
Popol Vuh,
Suburban Knight,
Scratch Acid,
Minny Pops,
Tim Buckley,
John Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
Nik Kershaw,
Schoolly D,
Malaria!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gregory Isaacs,
Connie Case,
Jacob Miller,
Pylon,
Harmonia,
Eurythmics,
Half Japanese,
Mission of Burma,
Lightning Bolt,
Todd Rundgren,
Underground Resistance,
Sound Behaviour,
The Young Rascals,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.