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 Guinea-Bissau and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 X-101 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Toni Rubio,
Mark Hollis,
Jeff Mills,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Reuben Wilson,
Funky Four + One,
The Angels of Light,
Jeff Lynne,
Dave Gahan,
Animal Collective,
The Move,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Magma,
Wire,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Knickerbockers,
Aswad,
The Electric Prunes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alphaville,
Fad Gadget,
The Selecter,
The Music Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Toasters,
World's Most,
Swans,
Vladislav Delay,
Morten Harket,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Duran Duran,
H. Thieme,
Fear,
Peter and Kerry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Icehouse,
Gastr Del Sol,
New York Dolls,
Scrapy,
Bob Dylan,
Smog,
Newcleus,
Drexciya,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
Unwound,
Fatback Band,
Simply Red,
Groovy Waters,
Panda Bear,
The Star Department,
John Lydon,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.