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 Algeria and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 X-102 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Rekid,
Mission of Burma,
Sixth Finger,
Minor Threat,
David McCallum,
David Axelrod,
In Retrospect,
H. Thieme,
Reuben Wilson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joey Negro,
The Sonics,
Camouflage,
Derrick May,
The Doors,
Terry Callier,
The Golliwogs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dead C,
Cheater Slicks,
Section 25,
Franke,
Bush Tetras,
X-101,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare,
Drive Like Jehu,
CMW,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Knickerbockers,
Al Stewart,
Colin Newman,
The Gladiators,
The Blackbyrds,
Byron Stingily,
The Fugs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ronan,
D'Angelo,
Outsiders,
Agitation Free,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kayak,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cramps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Duran Duran,
David Bowie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ronnie Foster,
Hashim,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slits,
Wire,
Buzzcocks,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.