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 Sudan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 chamberlin 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 The Walker Brothers to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bang On A Can,
The Red Krayola,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare,
Inner City,
Absolute Body Control,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nation of Ulysses,
Angry Samoans,
Saccharine Trust,
Rekid,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Prunes,
Aaron Thompson,
Eurythmics,
Monolake,
Al Stewart,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Parry Music,
Minor Threat,
Intrusion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Terry Callier,
UT,
Spandau Ballet,
John Lydon,
Goldenarms,
The Neon Judgement,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Style,
Isaac Hayes,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Basic Channel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Animal Collective,
Marcia Griffiths,
Con Funk Shun,
Glenn Branca,
Roxy Music,
Liliput,
Loose Ends,
The Evens,
June Days,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Move,
Japan,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra,
The Moody Blues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Quadrant,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.