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 Spain and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare 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 KRS-One to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Morten Harket,
Eric Copeland,
Electric Prunes,
Los Fastidios,
Outsiders,
Skaos,
Schoolly D,
New York Dolls,
Bluetip,
F. McDonald,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ornette Coleman,
Alice Coltrane,
Fear,
The Doors,
Black Flag,
Faust,
These Immortal Souls,
Index,
Henry Cow,
Shuggie Otis,
The Trojans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roger Hodgson,
Malaria!,
Prince Buster,
Bronski Beat,
Ituana,
Radio Birdman,
Marine Girls,
Don Cherry,
Darondo,
Unwound,
Lyres,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Soft Cell,
Brick,
Sugar Minott,
Absolute Body Control,
Bauhaus,
Carl Craig,
The Martian,
Bobby Byrd,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hoover,
Gabor Szabo,
Girls At Our Best!,
PIL,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joy Division,
Parry Music,
Freddie Wadling,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Evens,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.