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 Afghanistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the grime 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Slave,
Moss Icon,
A Certain Ratio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Qualms,
Blancmange,
Matthew Halsall,
Mo-Dettes,
Simply Red,
The Selecter,
Ken Boothe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reagan Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Pantaleimon,
Ultravox,
Cameo,
Anthony Braxton,
Davy DMX,
Lalo Schifrin,
Liliput,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacob Miller,
Franke,
The Golliwogs,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues,
The Standells,
K-Klass,
Jesper Dahlback,
Steve Hackett,
Suburban Knight,
The Velvet Underground,
Gichy Dan,
The American Breed,
MC5,
The Birthday Party,
Goldenarms,
The Index,
Oneida,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Residents,
The Leaves,
Sonic Youth,
June of 44,
Radio Birdman,
The Beau Brummels,
Chrome,
Grauzone,
The Pop Group,
Smog,
The Barracudas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Skatalites,
The Cowsills,
Rod Modell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hardrive,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.