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 Andorra and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Albert Ayler to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
EPMD,
Pere Ubu,
Q and Not U,
Quantec,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Circle Jerks,
MC5,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mark Hollis,
The Residents,
The Martian,
Howard Jones,
Joe Finger,
The Dirtbombs,
Suicide,
Fatback Band,
Brick,
Wally Richardson,
Roxette,
The Fuzztones,
David Bowie,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Real Kids,
Half Japanese,
Lyres,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Von Mondo,
The Knickerbockers,
Minutemen,
Barrington Levy,
Lightning Bolt,
Motorama,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alice Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Hill,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Monks,
Marmalade,
Eurythmics,
Joyce Sims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Masters at Work,
The Velvet Underground,
Nas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Misunderstood,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sound,
Lower 48,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kurtis Blow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
The Trojans,
Sound Behaviour,
Jerry's Kids,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.