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 Marshall Islands and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
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 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 Eve St. Jones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wally Richardson,
Howard Jones,
Black Flag,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Starr,
Adolescents,
The Misunderstood,
Junior Murvin,
Soulsonic Force,
Camouflage,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Slave,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Saccharine Trust,
Rapeman,
Swans,
48th St. Collective,
the Germs,
Carl Craig,
The Gories,
Second Layer,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
Sandy B,
Funkadelic,
Boredoms,
Don Cherry,
Khruangbin,
Neu!,
The Toasters,
Sight & Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Ice-T,
Symarip,
Echospace,
Rhythm & Sound,
Blossom Toes,
Mark Hollis,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick Morgan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Faust,
Black Moon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
The Martian,
Byron Stingily,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.