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 Romania and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 U.S. Maple to the funk 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Icehouse,
Outsiders,
Carl Craig,
The Mummies,
The Gun Club,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Todd Terry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
Aswad,
Dorothy Ashby,
Maurizio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minny Pops,
The Stooges,
Freddie Wadling,
Bob Dylan,
The Smiths,
The Fall,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ponytail,
Can,
Animal Collective,
The Fire Engines,
Quadrant,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camouflage,
Oneida,
Subhumans,
Tears for Fears,
Massinfluence,
Depeche Mode,
Motorama,
L. Decosne,
The American Breed,
Ultravox,
Electric Prunes,
Swans,
Lou Reed,
The Evens,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
June of 44,
MDC,
Loose Ends,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Main Source,
Joensuu 1685,
Kevin Saunderson,
D'Angelo,
Crooked Eye,
Gichy Dan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cowsills,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lower 48,
The Real Kids,
Ituana,
The Martian,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.