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 Laos and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 Joy Division to the punk 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Nas,
David Bowie,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moebius,
The Residents,
Tres Demented,
Minnie Riperton,
Yellowson,
Public Enemy,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Godley & Creme,
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
John Holt,
Swell Maps,
Yazoo,
Cheater Slicks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Remains,
Stereo Dub,
Chris Corsano,
Carl Craig,
Bad Manners,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultravox,
Bush Tetras,
Heaven 17,
Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
Eve St. Jones,
John Cale,
The Trojans,
Eric Copeland,
The Seeds,
Barbara Tucker,
Subhumans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lakeside,
Maleditus Sound,
Minor Threat,
The Barracudas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alison Limerick,
the Slits,
Absolute Body Control,
In Retrospect,
Sonic Youth,
Royal Trux,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roxy Music,
Goldenarms,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultimate Spinach,
Unrelated Segments,
Blake Baxter,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.