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 Philippines and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 LL Cool J to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-101,
Patti Smith,
Yaz,
Delta 5,
Susan Cadogan,
David Bowie,
The Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masters at Work,
The Fortunes,
Sonic Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Deadbeat,
Man Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
the Sonics,
Boredoms,
Bob Dylan,
Section 25,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
This Heat,
Fad Gadget,
The Sisters of Mercy,
K-Klass,
cv313,
The Modern Lovers,
The Selecter,
Agitation Free,
Amon Düül II,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Sheep,
Cluster,
Suburban Knight,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hashim,
Dawn Penn,
The Cramps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
Rufus Thomas,
The Invisible,
Faust,
The Slackers,
Roxette,
The Names,
DJ Sneak,
The J.B.'s,
UT,
Ronan,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
The Busters,
Zapp,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sällskapet,
Minny Pops,
Barbara Tucker,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.