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 Libya and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bad Manners to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Fatback Band,
Technova,
Danielle Patucci,
Archie Shepp,
Henry Cow,
The Human League,
The Walker Brothers,
Skriet,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Deepchord,
Scratch Acid,
Minnie Riperton,
The Wake,
CMW,
Warren Ellis,
Black Flag,
John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
Moby Grape,
The Angels of Light,
Jeff Lynne,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joensuu 1685,
Adolescents,
Fear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masters at Work,
Eli Mardock,
Siglo XX,
The Fuzztones,
Circle Jerks,
Neu!,
Tommy Roe,
The Beau Brummels,
Guru Guru,
Zapp,
Avey Tare,
Suicide,
Electric Prunes,
Eric Dolphy,
Desert Stars,
Scion,
Interpol,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Star Department,
Icehouse,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Outsiders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hoover,
Quadrant,
The Trojans,
cv313,
Sam Rivers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Silicon Teens,
Skarface,
Jacques Brel,
Absolute Body Control,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.