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 Serbia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
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 Nile Rodgers 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 Jawbox to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Graham Central Station,
Todd Terry,
The Music Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
H. Thieme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fat Boys,
Suicide,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Throbbing Gristle,
Malaria!,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Kinks,
Soft Cell,
T. Rex,
Mr. Review,
48th St. Collective,
Eli Mardock,
Scratch Acid,
Whodini,
Y Pants,
E-Dancer,
Babytalk,
Leonard Cohen,
Symarip,
The Sound,
Silicon Teens,
Drive Like Jehu,
Swell Maps,
Make Up,
Section 25,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eurythmics,
Robert Hood,
Jacob Miller,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
Bob Dylan,
Lalann,
Letta Mbulu,
The Saints,
Barrington Levy,
Dead Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Holt,
Colin Newman,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Görl,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Liliput,
The Shadows of Knight,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Gladiators,
Oneida,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Invisible,
Simply Red,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.