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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Last Poets to the grunge 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Arthur Verocai,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Slave,
The Seeds,
Urselle,
The Dirtbombs,
Fugazi,
Lightning Bolt,
Harpers Bizarre,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Zapp,
Colin Newman,
Heaven 17,
Moss Icon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lucky Dragons,
10cc,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nico,
Dawn Penn,
Kerrie Biddell,
Khruangbin,
Shuggie Otis,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Porter Ricks,
R.M.O.,
the Association,
Black Flag,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Sherman,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cramps,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Funkadelic,
Sun City Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Soft Cell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hoover,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Christie,
Godley & Creme,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
Pierre Henry,
The Blackbyrds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rod Modell,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eli Mardock,
Q65,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deakin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vainqueur,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.