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 Kenya and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 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 Sam Rivers to the rock 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stetsasonic,
Fear,
Symarip,
David Bowie,
The Searchers,
Camouflage,
Mission of Burma,
Radiohead,
Max Romeo,
Fugazi,
Blancmange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David Axelrod,
Moby Grape,
H. Thieme,
Gabor Szabo,
Barrington Levy,
Glenn Branca,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Sonics,
Eurythmics,
Ultra Naté,
Gang of Four,
Reagan Youth,
The Associates,
John Foxx,
Hardrive,
Donald Byrd,
Can,
T. Rex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Buckinghams,
The Cure,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Yellowson,
Gang Starr,
June of 44,
Kerri Chandler,
Jandek,
Scientists,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
Alton Ellis,
R.M.O.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joyce Sims,
Shoche,
Schoolly D,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun City Girls,
Scan 7,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Theoretical Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
Icehouse,
X-101,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.