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 Russia and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Radio Birdman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Japan,
Morten Harket,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Moebius,
The Angels of Light,
Angry Samoans,
Intrusion,
Hoover,
Sound Behaviour,
The Remains,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Anthony Braxton,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yazoo,
Tears for Fears,
B.T. Express,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Au Pairs,
Sugar Minott,
the Slits,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Index,
Peter and Kerry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lyres,
The Music Machine,
T. Rex,
The Residents,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Surgeon,
The Smoke,
Visage,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oneida,
Monolake,
Ronnie Foster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
T.S.O.L.,
Television,
Jeff Mills,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Christie,
Scott Walker,
James White and The Blacks,
Ten City,
Slave,
Schoolly D,
Marshall Jefferson,
Von Mondo,
Joe Finger,
David McCallum,
Terry Callier,
Judy Mowatt,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.