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 Burkina and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Donald Fagen 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 Birthday Party to the jazz 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Goldenarms,
Infiniti,
Derrick Morgan,
U.S. Maple,
Arab on Radar,
Monks,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cowsills,
Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
the Bar-Kays,
Fugazi,
Skriet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
Marc Almond,
Derrick May,
Dave Gahan,
Sixth Finger,
The Smoke,
Maleditus Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Amazonics,
Peter and Kerry,
The Residents,
Carl Craig,
ABC,
Easy Going,
Sun Ra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Parry Music,
Scan 7,
Cheater Slicks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nico,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Altered Images,
Man Eating Sloth,
June Days,
Wasted Youth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Heaven 17,
Marine Girls,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
MDC,
Robert Hood,
Tomorrow,
Stereo Dub,
Jawbox,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.