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 Zimbabwe and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DNA to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Jawbox,
Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kurtis Blow,
Sugar Minott,
World's Most,
Bobby Sherman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Youth Brigade,
the Slits,
Yazoo,
Inner City,
Sight & Sound,
The Motions,
The Durutti Column,
Bad Manners,
The Monochrome Set,
Wasted Youth,
The Selecter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Anthony Braxton,
Rakim,
Minutemen,
Aaron Thompson,
Harry Pussy,
Crime,
Desert Stars,
The Residents,
Fad Gadget,
The Young Rascals,
Newcleus,
The New Christs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Interpol,
Carl Craig,
Rites of Spring,
the Human League,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fuzztones,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders,
New Age Steppers,
Flash Fearless,
The Blues Magoos,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fortunes,
Tears for Fears,
The Last Poets,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sound Behaviour,
The Dirtbombs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Bananas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Vladislav Delay,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Green,
Warsaw,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.