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 Israel and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the funk 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Marvin Gaye,
John Foxx,
Whodini,
Mad Mike,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
This Heat,
Pierre Henry,
Mission of Burma,
Index,
Barrington Levy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
Dawn Penn,
Pantytec,
Slave,
Alice Coltrane,
Brand Nubian,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ohio Players,
Unwound,
Symarip,
Arab on Radar,
Johnny Osbourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Technova,
The Neon Judgement,
Glambeats Corp.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blancmange,
The Music Machine,
The Gladiators,
B.T. Express,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Janne Schatter,
Wire,
Absolute Body Control,
Joey Negro,
Wolf Eyes,
Andrew Hill,
kango's stein massive,
cv313,
Robert Görl,
KRS-One,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The American Breed,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Victims,
Agent Orange,
Girls At Our Best!,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Flipper,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aaron Thompson,
Rakim,
Deepchord,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.