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 Zambia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fugazi to the grunge 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cramps,
John Holt,
Fatback Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Metal Thangz,
The Associates,
Erasure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lyres,
Gil Scott Heron,
Talk Talk,
The Monks,
Mantronix,
Echospace,
Ultravox,
Animal Collective,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Lydon,
Soft Cell,
Fat Boys,
JFA,
Basic Channel,
Oblivians,
Marine Girls,
Todd Terry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Funkadelic,
DJ Sneak,
Rod Modell,
Colin Newman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Mo-Dettes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Technova,
Make Up,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barclay James Harvest,
L. Decosne,
Angry Samoans,
Eden Ahbez,
Livin' Joy,
The Five Americans,
Barrington Levy,
Arthur Verocai,
Yazoo,
MDC,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Gories,
Rapeman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Red Krayola,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Happenings,
Bobby Sherman,
Au Pairs,
Unwound,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Smog,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.