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 Libya and from New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Boredoms to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented 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?
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magazine,
UT,
K-Klass,
The Music Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Standells,
Lakeside,
Warren Ellis,
AZ,
Terry Callier,
Icehouse,
The Dead C,
Nirvana,
Altered Images,
Cameo,
June Days,
Todd Terry,
Monolake,
Hardrive,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roxette,
Tom Boy,
Gong,
Joyce Sims,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeff Mills,
John Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Can,
Echospace,
John Foxx,
Slick Rick,
Shuggie Otis,
In Retrospect,
Sun City Girls,
Quantec,
The Associates,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiohead,
Little Man,
The Grass Roots,
Laurel Aitken,
Au Pairs,
Schoolly D,
Rufus Thomas,
Bauhaus,
Siglo XX,
Byron Stingily,
Scratch Acid,
Unwound,
Jerry's Kids,
Marmalade,
The United States of America,
The Stooges,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.