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 Mali and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Seeds to the funk 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
A Certain Ratio,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tubeway Army,
Fugazi,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Rapeman,
Ronnie Foster,
Matthew Halsall,
Toni Rubio,
Yaz,
Clear Light,
Maurizio,
Gang Starr,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cymande,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Names,
Japan,
Minutemen,
Shoche,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Derrick May,
The Durutti Column,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slave,
The Offenders,
Aloha Tigers,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cramps,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Colin Newman,
Howard Jones,
Metal Thangz,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scion,
Cluster,
Harpers Bizarre,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alton Ellis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sandy B,
Buzzcocks,
Chrome,
The Birthday Party,
Eli Mardock,
Black Moon,
Subhumans,
Easy Going,
DJ Style,
Wolf Eyes,
Popol Vuh,
Scott Walker,
Ronan,
Black Sheep,
Model 500,
Quantec,
Nils Olav,
the Germs,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.