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 Mauritius and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Japan to the jazz 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marvin Gaye,
Alice Coltrane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Flag,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
the Sonics,
DJ Style,
Mars,
Niagra,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Byrd,
Whodini,
Eli Mardock,
The Skatalites,
Porter Ricks,
The Selecter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Archie Shepp,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
The Gladiators,
Blancmange,
Magazine,
The Dead C,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Model 500,
Simply Red,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dennis Brown,
Flipper,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gong,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crash Course in Science,
Ken Boothe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
Jacob Miller,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Los Fastidios,
Moss Icon,
Colin Newman,
Minutemen,
Youth Brigade,
Pagans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nation of Ulysses,
Drive Like Jehu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Guru Guru,
Franke,
Maleditus Sound,
Eden Ahbez,
Suburban Knight,
Man Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.