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 Barbados and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Saints to the punk 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Bill Near,
Fela Kuti,
Charles Mingus,
Roxy Music,
Jerry's Kids,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jawbox,
Anakelly,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bob Dylan,
Roger Hodgson,
Ronnie Foster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marine Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Patti Smith,
Todd Terry,
The Last Poets,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kaleidoscope,
Brass Construction,
Junior Murvin,
Drexciya,
Harry Pussy,
K-Klass,
UT,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter and Kerry,
Pantaleimon,
New Age Steppers,
Swans,
Boz Scaggs,
Hot Snakes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Magma,
Royal Trux,
a-ha,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blackbyrds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
CMW,
The Evens,
Fatback Band,
Echospace,
This Heat,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Durutti Column,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amazonics,
Graham Central Station,
The Offenders,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Smoke,
Dead Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.