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 Mali and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Harry Pussy to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Funky Four + One,
Kaleidoscope,
Banda Bassotti,
The Motions,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Remains,
The Trojans,
John Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Audionom,
Mission of Burma,
The Blues Magoos,
Nick Fraelich,
Fad Gadget,
Matthew Halsall,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bronski Beat,
Babytalk,
Section 25,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang of Four,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Carl Craig,
L. Decosne,
Oblivians,
Black Pus,
Siglo XX,
Joyce Sims,
China Crisis,
The Happenings,
Sight & Sound,
The Toasters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Agent Orange,
Andrew Hill,
the Bar-Kays,
Accadde A,
DJ Style,
Ohio Players,
Rekid,
Ronnie Foster,
DNA,
Kayak,
Janne Schatter,
Hasil Adkins,
Nik Kershaw,
Sister Nancy,
The Offenders,
Interpol,
Todd Terry,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Slackers,
Sixth Finger,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quadrant,
Derrick Morgan,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.