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 Djibouti and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Nico to the rap 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Thee Headcoats,
Wolf Eyes,
Aural Exciters,
Accadde A,
The Tremeloes,
New Age Steppers,
Nas,
Radio Birdman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Derrick Morgan,
Blancmange,
The Wake,
The Modern Lovers,
Suicide,
Johnny Clarke,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Delta 5,
The Monochrome Set,
Von Mondo,
CMW,
Mad Mike,
Gang Green,
Metal Thangz,
Mantronix,
JFA,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Near,
Blossom Toes,
The Seeds,
Rites of Spring,
Symarip,
B.T. Express,
Young Marble Giants,
LL Cool J,
Dennis Brown,
Skaos,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Isaac Hayes,
The Angels of Light,
Quadrant,
Moebius,
Tom Boy,
Alison Limerick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Index,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amazonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Chris Corsano,
K-Klass,
Underground Resistance,
The Motions,
Inner City,
Fela Kuti,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bronski Beat,
Ituana,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.