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 Botswana and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Anthony Braxton to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Spandau Ballet,
Cameo,
Grauzone,
June of 44,
Crime,
A Flock of Seagulls,
48th St. Collective,
Fugazi,
Tom Boy,
Guru Guru,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
The Fortunes,
Matthew Halsall,
Vainqueur,
Tres Demented,
Faraquet,
Zapp,
Infiniti,
Basic Channel,
The Saints,
Deakin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Motions,
Bang On A Can,
Lyres,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stiv Bators,
Unwound,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Rundgren,
Ituana,
CMW,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Flag,
Malaria!,
The Seeds,
AZ,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yaz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hot Snakes,
Chris & Cosey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Symarip,
Lungfish,
Blancmange,
Dorothy Ashby,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed,
Vladislav Delay,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Last Poets,
Pulsallama,
Absolute Body Control,
The Vogues,
DJ Style,
Don Cherry,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.