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 Italy and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare 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 Todd Rundgren to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Albert Ayler,
The Trojans,
Wasted Youth,
D'Angelo,
Kaleidoscope,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grandmaster Flash,
Young Marble Giants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Country Teasers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Trumans Water,
Unrelated Segments,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Davy DMX,
Eric B and Rakim,
Aaron Thompson,
Radiohead,
Organ,
Pantytec,
Stiv Bators,
Motorama,
Lungfish,
L. Decosne,
Matthew Halsall,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cymande,
The Fortunes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Henry Cow,
Icehouse,
the Fania All-Stars,
One Last Wish,
Jawbox,
The Electric Prunes,
Deakin,
Slave,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minny Pops,
Parry Music,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
DJ Sneak,
Archie Shepp,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jacob Miller,
Reagan Youth,
The Monks,
The Moody Blues,
The Invisible,
Crime,
Avey Tare,
The Names,
F. McDonald,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Swans,
John Cale,
Vainqueur,
Chris & Cosey,
The Leaves,
48th St. Collective,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.