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 Macedonia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Ronnie Foster to the rock 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Christie,
Black Flag,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thompson Twins,
LL Cool J,
Lindisfarne,
Charles Mingus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker,
Joy Division,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gerry Rafferty,
R.M.O.,
kango's stein massive,
The Detroit Cobras,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cowsills,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eddi Front,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Junior Murvin,
Essential Logic,
Malaria!,
Bill Wells,
The United States of America,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quantec,
Blake Baxter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Outsiders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oneida,
Skaos,
Scrapy,
The Dirtbombs,
Soft Cell,
the Bar-Kays,
New York Dolls,
Soft Machine,
The Sonics,
Mr. Review,
Isaac Hayes,
ABC,
The Grass Roots,
Reuben Wilson,
Procol Harum,
Public Enemy,
Man Parrish,
Interpol,
Faraquet,
Wally Richardson,
Barrington Levy,
Pantaleimon,
Roxette,
Simply Red,
Mission of Burma,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.