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 Ukraine and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Zapp to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
John Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
Yellowson,
The Slackers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Los Fastidios,
Chris & Cosey,
Don Cherry,
Gang Green,
Scion,
Michelle Simonal,
Bush Tetras,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Isaac Hayes,
Circle Jerks,
Young Marble Giants,
Funkadelic,
Jandek,
Wolf Eyes,
Derrick Morgan,
The Moleskins,
Nick Fraelich,
Dark Day,
Gang of Four,
MC5,
E-Dancer,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pulsallama,
Trumans Water,
The Trojans,
Essential Logic,
The Fall,
Tears for Fears,
The Victims,
Index,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Saints,
Glenn Branca,
John Foxx,
The Searchers,
Soft Cell,
Qualms,
John Holt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aswad,
Sugar Minott,
Amazonics,
The Fugs,
Motorama,
The Flesh Eaters,
Desert Stars,
kango's stein massive,
The Star Department,
10cc,
Rufus Thomas,
Janne Schatter,
Sun City Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.