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 Marshall Islands and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the jazz 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Scrapy,
Don Cherry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Faust,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eli Mardock,
Derrick Morgan,
Terry Callier,
Little Man,
Underground Resistance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nik Kershaw,
Dave Gahan,
the Germs,
Wolf Eyes,
Warsaw,
Von Mondo,
Section 25,
Sexual Harrassment,
Susan Cadogan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Procol Harum,
Lower 48,
The Fire Engines,
Moss Icon,
Fugazi,
H. Thieme,
the Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Gong,
Minnie Riperton,
Al Stewart,
John Cale,
Quantec,
Vainqueur,
T. Rex,
Popol Vuh,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Byron Stingily,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Depeche Mode,
Hasil Adkins,
The Wake,
The Toasters,
Sun City Girls,
The Moleskins,
Bill Wells,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
DJ Sneak,
Stiv Bators,
China Crisis,
Lindisfarne,
Jawbox,
Crash Course in Science,
Aswad,
Grey Daturas,
Khruangbin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blossom Toes,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.