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 Sweden and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 kango's stein massive to the punk 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Erasure,
Franke,
The Grass Roots,
Boredoms,
The Invisible,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Outsiders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hashim,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lower 48,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eli Mardock,
Tears for Fears,
Porter Ricks,
Juan Atkins,
China Crisis,
48th St. Collective,
Blake Baxter,
Agent Orange,
Roxette,
Janne Schatter,
Jawbox,
Roxy Music,
Dark Day,
James White and The Blacks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sun Ra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Inner City,
Lindisfarne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Johnny Clarke,
Gerry Rafferty,
Magma,
Black Moon,
Marvin Gaye,
Wolf Eyes,
The Seeds,
David Axelrod,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
Peter & Gordon,
Bootsy Collins,
Heaven 17,
X-101,
Thee Headcoats,
AZ,
Deepchord,
Malaria!,
Radio Birdman,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.