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 Bahamas and from Seoul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ohio Players to the techno 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Womack,
The Wake,
Young Marble Giants,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Angry Samoans,
Stetsasonic,
David Axelrod,
a-ha,
Shuggie Otis,
Rites of Spring,
Blancmange,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lightning Bolt,
Excepter,
Neil Young,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deadbeat,
The Invisible,
The Searchers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Fuzztones,
The Standells,
Steve Hackett,
Robert Hood,
Marmalade,
The Litter,
The Divine Comedy,
The American Breed,
Livin' Joy,
Byron Stingily,
Brand Nubian,
Max Romeo,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang Gang Dance,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sixth Finger,
Main Source,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fat Boys,
Flipper,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Music Machine,
Dead Boys,
Moby Grape,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Q and Not U,
Pagans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Con Funk Shun,
Barrington Levy,
Blake Baxter,
Underground Resistance,
Massinfluence,
Interpol,
Quadrant,
Mark Hollis,
Juan Atkins,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.