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 Iran and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
The Pretty Things,
Iggy Pop,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Blake Baxter,
Kurtis Blow,
Electric Prunes,
Dave Gahan,
DNA,
Magma,
Marc Almond,
Darondo,
World's Most,
Massinfluence,
The Victims,
Camberwell Now,
Nas,
Qualms,
Pantytec,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suicide,
Gang Starr,
LL Cool J,
This Heat,
Rapeman,
The Beau Brummels,
Intrusion,
The Golliwogs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Foxx,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bluetip,
the Soft Cell,
Cheater Slicks,
John Coltrane,
Sandy B,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Move,
Laurel Aitken,
Byron Stingily,
Howard Jones,
Barbara Tucker,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blancmange,
The Cosmic Jokers,
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Searchers,
Ituana,
Cymande,
H. Thieme,
Grey Daturas,
Robert Görl,
The Grass Roots,
Saccharine Trust,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Womack,
Glenn Branca,
Silicon Teens,
Josef K,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.