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 Uruguay and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Neon Judgement to the grunge 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Adolescents,
Pagans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hashim,
KRS-One,
Sandy B,
The Trojans,
New York Dolls,
Faraquet,
Glenn Branca,
Liliput,
the Bar-Kays,
DNA,
Swell Maps,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Mad Mike,
Cymande,
Henry Cow,
Jawbox,
Barbara Tucker,
Rufus Thomas,
Blancmange,
Michelle Simonal,
FM Einheit,
New Order,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barry Ungar,
Wings,
Funky Four + One,
The Monks,
kango's stein massive,
Aswad,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
Moby Grape,
Livin' Joy,
Zero Boys,
Tres Demented,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
These Immortal Souls,
Talk Talk,
Lindisfarne,
Wally Richardson,
Idris Muhammad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Excepter,
Sonic Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Standells,
Fat Boys,
Black Moon,
LL Cool J,
Jeff Mills,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
Magma,
Soulsonic Force,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.