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 Ecuador and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 F. McDonald to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Thee Headcoats,
Pylon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Görl,
Moby Grape,
Dorothy Ashby,
Malaria!,
Fear,
Scientists,
Roger Hodgson,
Khruangbin,
Au Pairs,
Interpol,
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Kinks,
The Sonics,
CMW,
The Gun Club,
Technova,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Darondo,
Essential Logic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
China Crisis,
Bob Dylan,
Lalann,
JFA,
The Black Dice,
Gerry Rafferty,
Prince Buster,
Leonard Cohen,
Jandek,
The Gories,
Subhumans,
Cheater Slicks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Starr,
Deakin,
Neil Young,
Liliput,
Tres Demented,
Marcia Griffiths,
AZ,
Bronski Beat,
June of 44,
The Residents,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crime,
Agent Orange,
This Heat,
Surgeon,
E-Dancer,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.