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 Guinea-Bissau and from Manchester.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeru the Damaja to the dance 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gladiators,
Blake Baxter,
L. Decosne,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Bourne,
Aaron Thompson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Golliwogs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boredoms,
Underground Resistance,
The Vogues,
Gang of Four,
Little Man,
Mo-Dettes,
Harry Pussy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Loose Ends,
Aloha Tigers,
B.T. Express,
Fluxion,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
DNA,
Throbbing Gristle,
Isaac Hayes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
David McCallum,
The Moleskins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Althea and Donna,
The Slackers,
Amon Düül II,
Japan,
Trumans Water,
Bush Tetras,
David Axelrod,
Q65,
Man Parrish,
Nirvana,
Chrome,
Freddie Wadling,
Ten City,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mandrill,
Minutemen,
Arab on Radar,
Todd Rundgren,
Mad Mike,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeff Lynne,
Deadbeat,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
John Lydon,
Silicon Teens,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.