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 Japan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Pop Group to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
The Vogues,
Anakelly,
the Sonics,
Faraquet,
New Age Steppers,
Nick Fraelich,
Lower 48,
Radiohead,
Minor Threat,
The Fortunes,
The Barracudas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Funkadelic,
Bad Manners,
Throbbing Gristle,
Michelle Simonal,
The Electric Prunes,
Neil Young,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry's Kids,
Public Enemy,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q and Not U,
Flipper,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fad Gadget,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
FM Einheit,
Royal Trux,
World's Most,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arthur Verocai,
Amon Düül II,
F. McDonald,
Symarip,
Erykah Badu,
The Real Kids,
Sugar Minott,
Zapp,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pop Group,
Gichy Dan,
John Holt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Make Up,
The Litter,
Brick,
Slick Rick,
Crooked Eye,
Bill Near,
Black Bananas,
Section 25,
Interpol,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.