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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Motorama,
Country Teasers,
Kayak,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rapeman,
Quando Quango,
Liliput,
B.T. Express,
The Shadows of Knight,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
Quadrant,
Grauzone,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Funky Four + One,
a-ha,
Todd Rundgren,
The Move,
Procol Harum,
Cluster,
The Dead C,
The Happenings,
Amon Düül,
Aloha Tigers,
Metal Thangz,
Mad Mike,
Smog,
Nas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Flag,
Kenny Larkin,
Index,
The Misunderstood,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pantaleimon,
Lyres,
Camberwell Now,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scrapy,
Ralphi Rosario,
K-Klass,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fugs,
Deepchord,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Godley & Creme,
Sällskapet,
Mars,
The Remains,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mr. Review,
Inner City,
Jerry's Kids,
Von Mondo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.