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 Korea South and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the punk 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Al Stewart,
Mr. Review,
Sister Nancy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brick,
10cc,
Don Cherry,
The Blues Magoos,
John Holt,
Pole,
Lou Christie,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Radio Birdman,
Mark Hollis,
Can,
Young Marble Giants,
Yaz,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
JFA,
Niagra,
Saccharine Trust,
The Walker Brothers,
Sällskapet,
Ultravox,
The Angels of Light,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drexciya,
Max Romeo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Last Poets,
the Germs,
Parry Music,
Wasted Youth,
Harmonia,
Rites of Spring,
The Red Krayola,
Althea and Donna,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Camberwell Now,
D'Angelo,
the Human League,
Jeff Mills,
Barrington Levy,
Mo-Dettes,
Cheater Slicks,
Nico,
Talk Talk,
Reuben Wilson,
Barclay James Harvest,
EPMD,
A Certain Ratio,
Skriet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tim Buckley,
Rotary Connection,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.