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 Marshall Islands and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare 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 Gabor Szabo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Harry Pussy,
Ice-T,
Main Source,
Fugazi,
Michelle Simonal,
Bad Manners,
E-Dancer,
Aaron Thompson,
Yellowson,
The Durutti Column,
Essential Logic,
Scott Walker,
Wally Richardson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cal Tjader,
Warren Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Little Man,
Q65,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eli Mardock,
Eddi Front,
Nico,
Derrick Morgan,
Siglo XX,
The Last Poets,
the Germs,
Eric Dolphy,
Dawn Penn,
Grandmaster Flash,
Reuben Wilson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Y Pants,
Fad Gadget,
Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
Electric Prunes,
The Evens,
The Standells,
Agent Orange,
Johnny Osbourne,
FM Einheit,
Half Japanese,
The Doors,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Real Kids,
New Order,
Nils Olav,
Tommy Roe,
Eve St. Jones,
Camberwell Now,
Gong,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Ludus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reagan Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sällskapet,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.