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 Burundi 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wire to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Susan Cadogan,
Ornette Coleman,
Warren Ellis,
Joe Finger,
Skriet,
Todd Terry,
Rapeman,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Delon & Dalcan,
Davy DMX,
Angry Samoans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dirtbombs,
The Black Dice,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultimate Spinach,
Michelle Simonal,
The Techniques,
Excepter,
The American Breed,
The Young Rascals,
Spoonie Gee,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Graham Central Station,
Fugazi,
Black Moon,
Motorama,
The Move,
The Real Kids,
Crooked Eye,
Rod Modell,
The Music Machine,
Pierre Henry,
Archie Shepp,
Mark Hollis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mr. Review,
Bang On A Can,
the Normal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cal Tjader,
The Martian,
Eden Ahbez,
Warsaw,
Wally Richardson,
Ohio Players,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Names,
Deakin,
Lungfish,
Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
8 Eyed Spy,
F. McDonald,
Ludus,
Scientists,
Lucky Dragons,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.