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 Ecuador and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hot Snakes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The Grass Roots,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Görl,
Depeche Mode,
Ituana,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Litter,
Jacques Brel,
Scan 7,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alton Ellis,
Brass Construction,
Scrapy,
Thee Headcoats,
Liliput,
LL Cool J,
The Names,
Gang Green,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Japan,
Little Man,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Shoche,
Soft Machine,
Siglo XX,
The Stooges,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gories,
OOIOO,
Agitation Free,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hot Snakes,
Bill Near,
Television,
Ronnie Foster,
T.S.O.L.,
Max Romeo,
Fad Gadget,
Stereo Dub,
The Last Poets,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pantytec,
Pylon,
Todd Terry,
Roxy Music,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Techniques,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Erykah Badu,
Tres Demented,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Public Enemy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sixth Finger,
The Invisible,
Derrick Morgan,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.