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 Chile and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Nation of Ulysses to the disco 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeff Lynne,
Nick Fraelich,
Deepchord,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ken Boothe,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
Morten Harket,
Swell Maps,
The Slits,
Hashim,
Eric Dolphy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Sherman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rakim,
T. Rex,
Magazine,
Adolescents,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cure,
K-Klass,
The Shadows of Knight,
Judy Mowatt,
The Slackers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kerri Chandler,
The Detroit Cobras,
Visage,
Glenn Branca,
FM Einheit,
Pagans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rapeman,
Mad Mike,
Ultra Naté,
The Gap Band,
Gabor Szabo,
The Red Krayola,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Kinks,
The Wake,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Black Dice,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Human League,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Age Steppers,
The Monks,
Erasure,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Associates,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.