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 Austria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
T.S.O.L.,
Pussy Galore,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Excepter,
Reagan Youth,
Whodini,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mummies,
Michelle Simonal,
Echospace,
Man Parrish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anthony Braxton,
Henry Cow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
U.S. Maple,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Albert Ayler,
Camouflage,
Black Sheep,
Eurythmics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
One Last Wish,
Moby Grape,
Marine Girls,
Amazonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sonics,
Technova,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slits,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Beau Brummels,
Slave,
Malaria!,
Theoretical Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joe Smooth,
Morten Harket,
Von Mondo,
Rufus Thomas,
Robert Hood,
Fad Gadget,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cramps,
Eddi Front,
The Count Five,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Last Poets,
The Techniques,
Pierre Henry,
Urselle,
Yusef Lateef,
Crash Course in Science,
John Lydon,
Warsaw,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.