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 Thailand and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Doobie Brothers to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Tim Buckley,
Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Wake,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Standells,
X-101,
Delta 5,
Adolescents,
Tres Demented,
Rapeman,
Todd Terry,
Brick,
Alison Limerick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Camberwell Now,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cure,
Sun City Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Mad Mike,
Sällskapet,
T. Rex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Smog,
Blossom Toes,
Bad Manners,
The Grass Roots,
Gang of Four,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Danielle Patucci,
Technova,
Brass Construction,
The Index,
Negative Approach,
Bang On A Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wasted Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minny Pops,
Rod Modell,
Jacques Brel,
Alton Ellis,
Bob Dylan,
the Human League,
John Cale,
Robert Görl,
The Young Rascals,
Interpol,
Moebius,
the Sonics,
Cecil Taylor,
Jacob Miller,
Goldenarms,
Neil Young,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.