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 Panama and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron 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 Absolute Body Control 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Smiths,
Joey Negro,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eli Mardock,
Tears for Fears,
Tim Buckley,
Infiniti,
Sällskapet,
Cal Tjader,
Harmonia,
Niagra,
June of 44,
The Sonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cramps,
CMW,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang Green,
X-101,
Camouflage,
Aaron Thompson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Patti Smith,
Liliput,
Audionom,
Sixth Finger,
the Swans,
UT,
Bad Manners,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Residents,
The Knickerbockers,
The Birthday Party,
Pantaleimon,
Bob Dylan,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slackers,
Pulsallama,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ohio Players,
Stiv Bators,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Man Parrish,
Mr. Review,
Boogie Down Productions,
K-Klass,
E-Dancer,
Motorama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Moss Icon,
Unrelated Segments,
Radiohead,
Carl Craig,
Icehouse,
Rotary Connection,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.