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 Poland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Pere Ubu to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Almond,
Section 25,
Groovy Waters,
Electric Prunes,
Monks,
Rosa Yemen,
Moebius,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Saccharine Trust,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arcadia,
Average White Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marine Girls,
PIL,
Nik Kershaw,
Wolf Eyes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minor Threat,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Camberwell Now,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monolake,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roy Ayers,
H. Thieme,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
These Immortal Souls,
Blancmange,
In Retrospect,
Pantaleimon,
Iggy Pop,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Womack,
Roxy Music,
The Fugs,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kurtis Blow,
Suicide,
Sonic Youth,
John Foxx,
Slave,
The Gladiators,
Cluster,
The Mummies,
The Vogues,
Absolute Body Control,
the Germs,
Fad Gadget,
Adolescents,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stereo Dub,
Ice-T,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.