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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Youth Brigade to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Ice-T,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Blake Baxter,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Zeros,
Stereo Dub,
Warsaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jandek,
Y Pants,
Kool Moe Dee,
Suicide,
Ken Boothe,
Eurythmics,
Quantec,
Pulsallama,
Colin Newman,
B.T. Express,
Scan 7,
KRS-One,
Saccharine Trust,
June Days,
Buzzcocks,
The Monochrome Set,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bronski Beat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hasil Adkins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roxy Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Bluetip,
The Pretty Things,
Slave,
Terry Callier,
Arthur Verocai,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Victims,
Amon Düül II,
Peter & Gordon,
Fear,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sonic Youth,
T. Rex,
AZ,
Cymande,
Maurizio,
Qualms,
The Blues Magoos,
John Foxx,
Nils Olav,
Pantytec,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Mills,
The Fire Engines,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Josef K,
Outsiders,
John Coltrane,
The Saints,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.