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 Djibouti and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 New Order to the disco 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers,
Motorama,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy Collins,
The Stooges,
Archie Shepp,
Jerry's Kids,
The New Christs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suburban Knight,
The Martian,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skaos,
Harpers Bizarre,
Piero Umiliani,
Harmonia,
Japan,
Whodini,
Mr. Review,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fire Engines,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Normal,
Qualms,
Unwound,
Organ,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
John Lydon,
The Sonics,
The Tremeloes,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
The Names,
Lalo Schifrin,
Boredoms,
Hot Snakes,
Throbbing Gristle,
MC5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
Smog,
Index,
Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
The Happenings,
Byron Stingily,
Lungfish,
Symarip,
Lower 48,
Bush Tetras,
The Count Five,
Marmalade,
Joensuu 1685,
Schoolly D,
Boogie Down Productions,
Procol Harum,
Eddi Front,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.