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 Uzbekistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 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 K-Klass to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Joe Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pole,
Livin' Joy,
Lightning Bolt,
Sonic Youth,
Half Japanese,
The Misunderstood,
The Dead C,
Lindisfarne,
FM Einheit,
The Golliwogs,
Tres Demented,
Buzzcocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vainqueur,
Lou Christie,
Kerri Chandler,
Minutemen,
Slick Rick,
The Fall,
These Immortal Souls,
Barbara Tucker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Martian,
Eddi Front,
The Zeros,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül II,
John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alphaville,
Ronnie Foster,
Eurythmics,
Prince Buster,
Kerrie Biddell,
David Axelrod,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ohio Players,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Index,
Matthew Bourne,
Depeche Mode,
Sister Nancy,
The Dirtbombs,
Nirvana,
Supertramp,
Dead Boys,
Patti Smith,
X-102,
Mantronix,
Ultimate Spinach,
David McCallum,
The Skatalites,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.