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 Jamaica and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Holger Czukay 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 Black Moon to the grunge 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Fluxion,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crime,
Amon Düül II,
Banda Bassotti,
DNA,
Urselle,
Symarip,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pierre Henry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
kango's stein massive,
Maurizio,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Audionom,
The Litter,
The Golliwogs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Dirtbombs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Clarke,
Arthur Verocai,
JFA,
The Divine Comedy,
Agitation Free,
Roxy Music,
The Dead C,
cv313,
Scott Walker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zero Boys,
Country Teasers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
These Immortal Souls,
Pylon,
Spoonie Gee,
Soul Sonic Force,
Steve Hackett,
Silicon Teens,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Smooth,
Liliput,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Black Dice,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
La Düsseldorf,
Swell Maps,
The Skatalites,
Eden Ahbez,
Deakin,
Aswad,
Charles Mingus,
Guru Guru,
The Slackers,
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.