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 Senegal and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Basic Channel to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Niagra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Das Ding,
Gang Starr,
John Coltrane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Anakelly,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Theoretical Girls,
Crime,
June of 44,
The Evens,
The J.B.'s,
X-Ray Spex,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Spoonie Gee,
T. Rex,
One Last Wish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cluster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Freddie Wadling,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Enemy,
Nik Kershaw,
The Gories,
Sound Behaviour,
Warsaw,
Trumans Water,
Von Mondo,
Radiohead,
Tom Boy,
Crash Course in Science,
Byron Stingily,
Slave,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Q65,
Minor Threat,
Au Pairs,
The Black Dice,
Pylon,
E-Dancer,
Agent Orange,
Magma,
Basic Channel,
Q and Not U,
Slick Rick,
Bang On A Can,
Parry Music,
Man Parrish,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Rundgren,
Drive Like Jehu,
Anthony Braxton,
The Monks,
Marine Girls,
The Real Kids,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.