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 Turkmenistan and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 David Bowie 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 Seeds to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Faraquet,
Andrew Hill,
Pylon,
Parry Music,
Royal Trux,
Suicide,
Wire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick Morgan,
Whodini,
Accadde A,
Zapp,
the Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Dual Sessions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lower 48,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Modern Lovers,
Bang On A Can,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun City Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rotary Connection,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aural Exciters,
Alison Limerick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ossler,
MDC,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dirtbombs,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quando Quango,
Funkadelic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sällskapet,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Easy Going,
Kayak,
Joe Finger,
The Sound,
the Slits,
The Cowsills,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blackbyrds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blues Magoos,
James White and The Blacks,
Lyres,
Johnny Clarke,
Dawn Penn,
The Names,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.