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 Congo and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Pantaleimon to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
The Gun Club,
Cymande,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Morten Harket,
The Fugs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Suicide,
The Move,
The Pretty Things,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Main Source,
June of 44,
CMW,
The Young Rascals,
Alton Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Janne Schatter,
Pierre Henry,
Groovy Waters,
The Mummies,
Parry Music,
OOIOO,
Tommy Roe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Machine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jandek,
Big Daddy Kane,
London Community Gospel Choir,
MDC,
Kayak,
The Litter,
Nico,
Soul II Soul,
Mars,
John Coltrane,
Ken Boothe,
Glenn Branca,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Red Krayola,
David Bowie,
Faust,
Pulsallama,
Roy Ayers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mad Mike,
48th St. Collective,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Skatalites,
The Tremeloes,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultra Naté,
Chrome,
The New Christs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rapeman,
Soft Cell,
Drexciya,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.