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 Slovenia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Pantytec to the grunge 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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agent Orange,
Symarip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry's Kids,
ABC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pagans,
The Searchers,
Warren Ellis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nico,
Johnny Clarke,
The Walker Brothers,
the Association,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Christie,
The Sound,
John Lydon,
Anakelly,
Kerrie Biddell,
Archie Shepp,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül,
Aswad,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ituana,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Five Americans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
A Certain Ratio,
T. Rex,
Whodini,
The United States of America,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Red Krayola,
Gregory Isaacs,
Malaria!,
Maurizio,
Jacques Brel,
Colin Newman,
Mandrill,
Vainqueur,
Yazoo,
Tubeway Army,
Dark Day,
Circle Jerks,
Ultravox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Duran Duran,
Los Fastidios,
Hot Snakes,
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
The Index,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.