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 France and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Barry Ungar to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Eurythmics,
Sarah Menescal,
The Grass Roots,
Index,
Todd Terry,
Public Image Ltd.,
UT,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cheater Slicks,
Henry Cow,
Letta Mbulu,
T. Rex,
Stetsasonic,
The Names,
The Last Poets,
Echospace,
Black Moon,
kango's stein massive,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Rundgren,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
Masters at Work,
Eve St. Jones,
Al Stewart,
ABBA,
Soulsonic Force,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Steve Hackett,
Graham Central Station,
Inner City,
Banda Bassotti,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Vogues,
Jacob Miller,
Little Man,
Loose Ends,
Simply Red,
Tim Buckley,
EPMD,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alton Ellis,
Terry Callier,
Aural Exciters,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sound Behaviour,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Bananas,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mandrill,
Prince Buster,
John Coltrane,
Crooked Eye,
Blossom Toes,
Half Japanese,
Jawbox,
Davy DMX,
Crispian St. Peters,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.