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 Brazil and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Music Machine,
The Sonics,
Michelle Simonal,
Ralphi Rosario,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cybotron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tom Boy,
Bill Near,
The Walker Brothers,
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Leaves,
Public Enemy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Smoke,
Barrington Levy,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultra Naté,
Steve Hackett,
Sunsets and Hearts,
T. Rex,
Nico,
Das Ding,
The Names,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Schoolly D,
Flash Fearless,
The Index,
The Invisible,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
The Vogues,
Neil Young,
The Residents,
Adolescents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
The Raincoats,
Banda Bassotti,
Crime,
Idris Muhammad,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Green,
Scratch Acid,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Beau Brummels,
John Cale,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Unwound,
Eurythmics,
Scan 7,
Groovy Waters,
the Slits,
Ronan,
Black Sheep,
Charles Mingus,
Altered Images,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.