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 Lesotho and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 Joey Negro to the disco 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
Janne Schatter,
Surgeon,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
Pylon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sixth Finger,
Tim Buckley,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Y Pants,
Scan 7,
Accadde A,
Glambeats Corp.,
Juan Atkins,
Young Marble Giants,
The Motions,
Max Romeo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
Lower 48,
Yaz,
The Red Krayola,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Style,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Litter,
Robert Görl,
The Seeds,
Brick,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yazoo,
Bad Manners,
Skaos,
The Index,
Magazine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Searchers,
Joensuu 1685,
Aswad,
The Mojo Men,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Pretty Things,
Little Man,
The Black Dice,
Nation of Ulysses,
Outsiders,
Minny Pops,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mars,
Index,
Altered Images,
Bizarre Inc.,
Panda Bear,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.