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 Suriname and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Searchers,
Zero Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Young Rascals,
The Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
Tears for Fears,
Kenny Larkin,
Sound Behaviour,
Y Pants,
F. McDonald,
Basic Channel,
10cc,
Infiniti,
Trumans Water,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
The Red Krayola,
Joe Smooth,
Kas Product,
The Blues Magoos,
E-Dancer,
The Doors,
Grey Daturas,
Fad Gadget,
Todd Terry,
L. Decosne,
Gang of Four,
The Toasters,
The Dirtbombs,
Colin Newman,
The Smoke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Radiohead,
Josef K,
Iggy Pop,
Rod Modell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soulsonic Force,
Glenn Branca,
X-102,
a-ha,
The Barracudas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Au Pairs,
Isaac Hayes,
Royal Trux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nas,
James White and The Blacks,
Cluster,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
These Immortal Souls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Womack,
OOIOO,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.