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 Mali and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Cheater Slicks to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Faust,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Birthday Party,
The Dead C,
The Barracudas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
Deakin,
Barbara Tucker,
The Martian,
The Associates,
The Star Department,
Roy Ayers,
Nick Fraelich,
The Real Kids,
David McCallum,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Görl,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warsaw,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lucky Dragons,
ABC,
Porter Ricks,
Brick,
Al Stewart,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Association,
Lower 48,
Oneida,
Q65,
CMW,
Monolake,
Soul Sonic Force,
Piero Umiliani,
John Cale,
Yazoo,
Althea and Donna,
June of 44,
D'Angelo,
Patti Smith,
Pulsallama,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Tim Buckley,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Rosa Yemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Siglo XX,
Sex Pistols,
Bluetip,
Fatback Band,
Nas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.