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 Morocco and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Knickerbockers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
The Misunderstood,
R.M.O.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Agitation Free,
Loose Ends,
Ice-T,
Rod Modell,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mummies,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerri Chandler,
Infiniti,
Eden Ahbez,
Moby Grape,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Excepter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Durutti Column,
Qualms,
Freddie Wadling,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Accadde A,
Essential Logic,
Cheater Slicks,
Alice Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
Hasil Adkins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sonic Youth,
The Zeros,
Nas,
Television Personalities,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Velvet Underground,
Matthew Halsall,
Faraquet,
The Barracudas,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dennis Brown,
The Beau Brummels,
Shoche,
Drexciya,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hot Snakes,
Joey Negro,
Radiopuhelimet,
Toni Rubio,
The Gories,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cybotron,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Audionom,
John Holt,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.