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 Solomon Islands and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crash Course in Science to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barry Ungar,
Scratch Acid,
Pylon,
Chrome,
The Black Dice,
David Axelrod,
Morten Harket,
Letta Mbulu,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül II,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amazonics,
Soul II Soul,
Albert Ayler,
Drive Like Jehu,
ABC,
Symarip,
Marvin Gaye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Zeros,
Supertramp,
Parry Music,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Christie,
T.S.O.L.,
The Barracudas,
Nik Kershaw,
Harry Pussy,
MC5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Country Teasers,
Fat Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacques Brel,
Don Cherry,
the Soft Cell,
Ituana,
The Cowsills,
L. Decosne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Con Funk Shun,
Patti Smith,
Index,
Animal Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Clear Light,
Q and Not U,
Ultravox,
Bill Near,
Massinfluence,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Franke,
Whodini,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.