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 Austria and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fire Engines to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Neu!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Motions,
Kerri Chandler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Can,
Crime,
Rosa Yemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
PIL,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Malaria!,
Lyres,
Lou Christie,
John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
Laurel Aitken,
The Red Krayola,
Q and Not U,
Bob Dylan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marcia Griffiths,
Half Japanese,
T. Rex,
A Certain Ratio,
Wally Richardson,
The Divine Comedy,
Letta Mbulu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Names,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sound Behaviour,
Albert Ayler,
The Fuzztones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Hot Snakes,
Warren Ellis,
Ronan,
Second Layer,
Susan Cadogan,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
John Coltrane,
Dead Boys,
China Crisis,
The Monks,
Sun Ra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yazoo,
Gang Gang Dance,
UT,
The Cure,
Buzzcocks,
K-Klass,
Siglo XX,
Y Pants,
Kayak,
Ossler,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.