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 Namibia and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 PIL to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
X-101,
Jawbox,
The Slits,
Chris Corsano,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scrapy,
Q65,
Slick Rick,
Bad Manners,
The Moody Blues,
Kevin Saunderson,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ludus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Misunderstood,
Underground Resistance,
The Skatalites,
Derrick May,
Metal Thangz,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Motorama,
Unwound,
Anthony Braxton,
UT,
The Offenders,
Nils Olav,
Half Japanese,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Livin' Joy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Section 25,
Young Marble Giants,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lakeside,
La Düsseldorf,
Neil Young,
Matthew Halsall,
Sugar Minott,
Fela Kuti,
Ultravox,
Dave Gahan,
The Cramps,
The Zeros,
Technova,
Blancmange,
Graham Central Station,
Bootsy Collins,
Cal Tjader,
Tears for Fears,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.