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 Malta and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 techno 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Jeff Mills,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Barracudas,
Mr. Review,
Cheater Slicks,
Chris & Cosey,
Nick Fraelich,
Colin Newman,
Erykah Badu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lyres,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Grass Roots,
Magazine,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Animal Collective,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Minutemen,
F. McDonald,
Pulsallama,
Q and Not U,
Monks,
Deakin,
Gang Green,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Görl,
Sparks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Red Krayola,
Anthony Braxton,
Sällskapet,
Swell Maps,
Heaven 17,
Niagra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nik Kershaw,
Minor Threat,
One Last Wish,
the Association,
The Index,
Infiniti,
Jacob Miller,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Albert Ayler,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Finger,
Laurel Aitken,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oneida,
Country Teasers,
U.S. Maple,
Brand Nubian,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.