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 Turkey and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 DJ Style 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Kerri Chandler,
Joyce Sims,
Toni Rubio,
F. McDonald,
The Velvet Underground,
Television,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Spandau Ballet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Byron Stingily,
Fad Gadget,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lower 48,
Pantytec,
Second Layer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Move,
Grauzone,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Harmonia,
The Remains,
The Grass Roots,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Steve Hackett,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Sheep,
Patti Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
The Red Krayola,
Morten Harket,
Skaos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mad Mike,
Mo-Dettes,
Freddie Wadling,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yusef Lateef,
Vladislav Delay,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pierre Henry,
Alphaville,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Offenders,
T. Rex,
Dual Sessions,
Con Funk Shun,
Royal Trux,
Oneida,
Sugar Minott,
Organ,
James White and The Blacks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Talk Talk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Hood,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sonic Youth,
Das Ding,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.