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 Uruguay and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lightning Bolt to the rock 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Reuben Wilson,
The Moleskins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Freddie Wadling,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Index,
kango's stein massive,
Main Source,
Supertramp,
The Dead C,
The Barracudas,
Faust,
Minnie Riperton,
Liliput,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Slave,
Jacob Miller,
Brand Nubian,
The Moody Blues,
John Lydon,
The Leaves,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Patti Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Popol Vuh,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Last Poets,
Michelle Simonal,
Aswad,
Organ,
X-102,
Masters at Work,
Fat Boys,
Moby Grape,
the Soft Cell,
Can,
Junior Murvin,
Q and Not U,
Underground Resistance,
Hardrive,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David Bowie,
Joy Division,
Niagra,
The Gladiators,
Hot Snakes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Khruangbin,
Ronan,
Wolf Eyes,
CMW,
Gang Green,
Lindisfarne,
Marine Girls,
X-101,
Roger Hodgson,
The Blues Magoos,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.