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 Australia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stetsasonic to the rap 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Hashim,
Lyres,
Drive Like Jehu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faust,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blake Baxter,
Sun Ra,
Minutemen,
Eli Mardock,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ituana,
Brand Nubian,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yellowson,
Black Sheep,
Robert Görl,
Sound Behaviour,
Interpol,
Black Pus,
Robert Hood,
Roxy Music,
Eve St. Jones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Theoretical Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Tremeloes,
Zero Boys,
The Mummies,
MC5,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Victims,
Tom Boy,
Toni Rubio,
U.S. Maple,
the Germs,
Man Parrish,
The Index,
The Red Krayola,
Fugazi,
Organ,
K-Klass,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erasure,
The Offenders,
Skriet,
Pagans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
Robert Wyatt,
Ralphi Rosario,
R.M.O.,
The Skatalites,
Spandau Ballet,
Camberwell Now,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mantronix,
The Angels of Light,
Soul II Soul,
Scion,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.