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 Greece and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Intrusion 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The Pretty Things,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Massinfluence,
Inner City,
Nick Fraelich,
DNA,
Cal Tjader,
Joyce Sims,
Interpol,
Smog,
T. Rex,
Eddi Front,
Gregory Isaacs,
Absolute Body Control,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Wells,
Fear,
Animal Collective,
Albert Ayler,
The Slackers,
Gabor Szabo,
Minny Pops,
New Age Steppers,
The Golliwogs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Davy DMX,
Siglo XX,
Terrestrial Tones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bush Tetras,
Rosa Yemen,
Duran Duran,
The Evens,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mars,
The Remains,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
Babytalk,
Ralphi Rosario,
Agent Orange,
Junior Murvin,
Severed Heads,
Liliput,
Blancmange,
Camouflage,
Anthony Braxton,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Symarip,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aswad,
the Germs,
Minutemen,
Harpers Bizarre,
E-Dancer,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drexciya,
Dave Gahan,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.