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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Neil Young 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Yellowson,
The Smiths,
Scrapy,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter and Kerry,
Aaron Thompson,
Scion,
Pussy Galore,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Moon,
Iggy Pop,
The Mojo Men,
The Dead C,
The Gun Club,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fall,
Junior Murvin,
Royal Trux,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ronnie Foster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Sheep,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Youth Brigade,
Public Image Ltd.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Germs,
Grauzone,
Symarip,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June Days,
Moss Icon,
Alison Limerick,
Ronan,
Ten City,
Eli Mardock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Little Man,
The Litter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Charles Mingus,
Amazonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mission of Burma,
Organ,
Tom Boy,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Joey Negro,
Fugazi,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rekid,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Osbourne,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.