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 Bahrain and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
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 chamberlin 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 Lower 48 to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Traffic Nightmare,
Glenn Branca,
Desert Stars,
Scion,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ituana,
Basic Channel,
the Slits,
Babytalk,
Saccharine Trust,
Echospace,
Byron Stingily,
K-Klass,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Inner City,
The Sound,
The Gap Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Agitation Free,
Soul II Soul,
Nils Olav,
Livin' Joy,
The Offenders,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
L. Decosne,
FM Einheit,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Green,
Aloha Tigers,
Marc Almond,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scientists,
Fatback Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
B.T. Express,
The Gun Club,
The Shadows of Knight,
June Days,
Quantec,
Q65,
Reagan Youth,
Gichy Dan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fugs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Johnny Clarke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monks,
Maurizio,
Juan Atkins,
The Vogues,
Scrapy,
Carl Craig,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.