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 Korea North and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Todd Terry to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Negative Approach,
Fear,
F. McDonald,
The Techniques,
Masters at Work,
Connie Case,
The Martian,
World's Most,
Inner City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bluetip,
Wolf Eyes,
Intrusion,
Mr. Review,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Maurizio,
Faraquet,
Yaz,
Gang Starr,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Niagra,
Circle Jerks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Litter,
Deepchord,
Chrome,
Drexciya,
Ultra Naté,
Dave Gahan,
Scan 7,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Althea and Donna,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Image Ltd.,
Talk Talk,
The Stooges,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smoke,
Anthony Braxton,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ohio Players,
The Cramps,
Sandy B,
Erasure,
Henry Cow,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June Days,
the Germs,
Andrew Hill,
10cc,
The Evens,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Skatalites,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.