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 Taiwan and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Niagra to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
The Dirtbombs,
The Modern Lovers,
Yusef Lateef,
Pagans,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
Gang Starr,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minny Pops,
Technova,
The Trojans,
Derrick Morgan,
Grandmaster Flash,
F. McDonald,
ABC,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gun Club,
Black Moon,
In Retrospect,
Rites of Spring,
Scrapy,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Sherman,
Boredoms,
Groovy Waters,
The Music Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Robert Görl,
The Slackers,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
Rotary Connection,
Quadrant,
Quando Quango,
Joyce Sims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boz Scaggs,
kango's stein massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Holt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Massinfluence,
Warren Ellis,
Japan,
Mark Hollis,
The Fortunes,
Surgeon,
Flipper,
The Red Krayola,
Tears for Fears,
Babytalk,
Qualms,
Sparks,
Blake Baxter,
Wally Richardson,
Erasure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television,
David Bowie,
Section 25,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.