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 Macedonia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Max Romeo to the crunk 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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
John Holt,
Desert Stars,
DJ Sneak,
Byron Stingily,
The Offenders,
Marmalade,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Wells,
Schoolly D,
MDC,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Sound,
Todd Terry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Agent Orange,
Country Teasers,
Skaos,
The Velvet Underground,
Audionom,
The Real Kids,
JFA,
The Fugs,
Joy Division,
Minny Pops,
Royal Trux,
The Barracudas,
The Associates,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sight & Sound,
Simply Red,
Fatback Band,
Cybotron,
Scion,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terrestrial Tones,
Slick Rick,
Aaron Thompson,
Eurythmics,
Black Moon,
Wolf Eyes,
Bauhaus,
Godley & Creme,
Quando Quango,
Aural Exciters,
Liliput,
Crispian St. Peters,
MC5,
The Remains,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacques Brel,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bad Manners,
Qualms,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Human League,
Eli Mardock,
The Martian,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.