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 Sweden and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 David Axelrod to the crunk 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
B.T. Express,
Marmalade,
The Kinks,
The Slits,
Lakeside,
The Golliwogs,
The Cramps,
LL Cool J,
The Victims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Coltrane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Newcleus,
Yaz,
Mo-Dettes,
Lee Hazlewood,
ABC,
Soul II Soul,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
Jacques Brel,
Tears for Fears,
L. Decosne,
Swell Maps,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
Radio Birdman,
Unrelated Segments,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Accadde A,
Leonard Cohen,
The Happenings,
This Heat,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxy Music,
Pole,
F. McDonald,
Joe Finger,
Cheater Slicks,
June of 44,
Carl Craig,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jesper Dahlbäck,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül,
Gang Gang Dance,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Reed,
The Residents,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ice-T,
Dual Sessions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Avey Tare,
Patti Smith,
The Moleskins,
the Association,
Soft Cell,
Todd Terry,
Susan Cadogan,
Al Stewart,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.