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 Laos and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 John Lydon to the electroclash 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Seeds,
The Selecter,
Joyce Sims,
La Düsseldorf,
Scrapy,
Country Teasers,
Frankie Knuckles,
June Days,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Prince Buster,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tommy Roe,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ronnie Foster,
Warren Ellis,
Trumans Water,
John Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Juan Atkins,
Fear,
Gang Gang Dance,
Laurel Aitken,
Deepchord,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Main Source,
Nico,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gregory Isaacs,
David Axelrod,
PIL,
Max Romeo,
Rakim,
Public Image Ltd.,
Patti Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
Neil Young,
Essential Logic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thee Headcoats,
Judy Mowatt,
Icehouse,
Los Fastidios,
OOIOO,
Robert Görl,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Sonics,
Scott Walker,
Cecil Taylor,
Magma,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mojo Men,
The Kinks,
Scan 7,
Yellowson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.