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 Liechtenstein and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
The Kinks,
UT,
Kurtis Blow,
Jawbox,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül,
Pantaleimon,
Magazine,
Kaleidoscope,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sister Nancy,
The Fall,
Tom Boy,
Donny Hathaway,
The Standells,
Aural Exciters,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
Agitation Free,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Unrelated Segments,
Connie Case,
Los Fastidios,
Pet Shop Boys,
Monolake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Terry,
The Offenders,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mummies,
The Gladiators,
Outsiders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barrington Levy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Whodini,
The Names,
Funkadelic,
Amazonics,
Subhumans,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims,
Accadde A,
David Bowie,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
E-Dancer,
Boredoms,
The Raincoats,
Smog,
Curtis Mayfield,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Slits,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Associates,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.