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 Luxembourg and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Doors,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Flag,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
U.S. Maple,
F. McDonald,
Faust,
Siglo XX,
Wire,
Graham Central Station,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aural Exciters,
Bad Manners,
Barbara Tucker,
Juan Atkins,
Bootsy Collins,
FM Einheit,
Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dirtbombs,
Flipper,
Aloha Tigers,
Aaron Thompson,
Blancmange,
World's Most,
Terrestrial Tones,
Half Japanese,
Flash Fearless,
Tubeway Army,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Y Pants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cybotron,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric Copeland,
Pierre Henry,
The Gun Club,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June of 44,
Peter and Kerry,
The Searchers,
Roxy Music,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brand Nubian,
Throbbing Gristle,
Adolescents,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Seeds,
Gang of Four,
OOIOO,
Trumans Water,
Dead Boys,
Livin' Joy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
The Moody Blues,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.