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 Nepal and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Boredoms to the punk 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi 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?
the Slits,
The Velvet Underground,
The J.B.'s,
The Last Poets,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Graham Central Station,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter & Gordon,
Stetsasonic,
The Human League,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tom Boy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cowsills,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dual Sessions,
Magazine,
Jandek,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Clarke,
The Golliwogs,
Eric Copeland,
the Fania All-Stars,
Warren Ellis,
The Move,
Rekid,
Q65,
The Real Kids,
Archie Shepp,
Jawbox,
Spandau Ballet,
Moby Grape,
Henry Cow,
the Soft Cell,
Aswad,
Maleditus Sound,
Robert Hood,
The Seeds,
David Axelrod,
Parry Music,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Terrestrial Tones,
Model 500,
The Electric Prunes,
Morten Harket,
The Music Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun Ra,
Dave Gahan,
Basic Channel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minor Threat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
L. Decosne,
R.M.O.,
Charles Mingus,
DJ Style,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.