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 Liberia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Second Layer,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
The Fire Engines,
Symarip,
Infiniti,
Yaz,
Television,
Minor Threat,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Hutcherson,
MDC,
Joyce Sims,
Johnny Clarke,
Amazonics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sällskapet,
Ornette Coleman,
Cal Tjader,
These Immortal Souls,
La Düsseldorf,
Vainqueur,
Average White Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Gang Dance,
Angry Samoans,
Pantytec,
MC5,
The Residents,
Ituana,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Robert Hood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Country Teasers,
Nirvana,
Joey Negro,
Derrick Morgan,
Sonic Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Wolf Eyes,
The United States of America,
Jerry's Kids,
The Durutti Column,
Matthew Halsall,
Dennis Brown,
Can,
Chris & Cosey,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kas Product,
Trumans Water,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Slits,
DNA,
Glenn Branca,
the Normal,
Sister Nancy,
Mars,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.