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 Vietnam and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kayak,
Zero Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Kenny Larkin,
Masters at Work,
Ohio Players,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Buzzcocks,
The Slackers,
Khruangbin,
Ken Boothe,
Main Source,
Henry Cow,
Joey Negro,
Magma,
The Victims,
Amon Düül,
Minny Pops,
Scrapy,
Reagan Youth,
Alphaville,
Erykah Badu,
Lower 48,
Susan Cadogan,
Iggy Pop,
The Evens,
Cymande,
Howard Jones,
Funkadelic,
the Germs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Remains,
Graham Central Station,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Warsaw,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wolf Eyes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bluetip,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Country Teasers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tres Demented,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacques Brel,
Q65,
The Offenders,
the Swans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
June Days,
Sixth Finger,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.