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 Turkmenistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Adolescents to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Martian,
Davy DMX,
Carl Craig,
H. Thieme,
Morten Harket,
Max Romeo,
The Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Hill,
PIL,
Joyce Sims,
Wolf Eyes,
Tim Buckley,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ken Boothe,
Sam Rivers,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grauzone,
World's Most,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang On A Can,
Alton Ellis,
Kas Product,
Livin' Joy,
Josef K,
Groovy Waters,
John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
Maleditus Sound,
Scan 7,
Outsiders,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Subhumans,
Jeff Mills,
Iggy Pop,
The American Breed,
Arthur Verocai,
Nas,
A Certain Ratio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rotary Connection,
Jandek,
David McCallum,
The Zeros,
UT,
Graham Central Station,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Al Stewart,
Supertramp,
B.T. Express,
Negative Approach,
The Buckinghams,
Mark Hollis,
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.