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 Iceland and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aswad to the dance 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Simply Red,
Intrusion,
Sun Ra,
Ornette Coleman,
Graham Central Station,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Swans,
Terry Callier,
Guru Guru,
Juan Atkins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Newcleus,
Zapp,
Reuben Wilson,
James White and The Blacks,
Rekid,
Swell Maps,
PIL,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
Country Teasers,
the Slits,
Crispian St. Peters,
Desert Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
Fela Kuti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Drexciya,
Piero Umiliani,
Q65,
The Real Kids,
Letta Mbulu,
The Gun Club,
Blake Baxter,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
Throbbing Gristle,
Davy DMX,
Black Pus,
The Vogues,
Bobby Sherman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick May,
Soul II Soul,
the Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Masters at Work,
Underground Resistance,
Metal Thangz,
Sparks,
DNA,
Gong,
Section 25,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yazoo,
The Cowsills,
John Lydon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pagans,
The Victims,
The Blues Magoos,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.