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 Kazakhstan 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Mark Hollis to the jazz 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Metal Thangz,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joe Finger,
Max Romeo,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Invisible,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fire Engines,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quadrant,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Royal Trux,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dead C,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Leonard Cohen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Kinks,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ossler,
Ituana,
Motorama,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swans,
Bobby Womack,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sparks,
Sight & Sound,
Skriet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Durutti Column,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Audionom,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Anthony Braxton,
The Martian,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Faraquet,
Oneida,
Donny Hathaway,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare,
Goldenarms,
Echospace,
June Days,
Sandy B,
Khruangbin,
Pulsallama,
Sonic Youth,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.