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 Palau and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Urselle to the rock 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barry Ungar,
Michelle Simonal,
Loose Ends,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Walker Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Index,
The Velvet Underground,
Television,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Surgeon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Toasters,
Ossler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hashim,
Aswad,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Saccharine Trust,
Amon Düül,
June Days,
Hasil Adkins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Agitation Free,
Letta Mbulu,
Tommy Roe,
The Names,
Arthur Verocai,
Rekid,
These Immortal Souls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soul II Soul,
The Blues Magoos,
Prince Buster,
Lucky Dragons,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gang Starr,
Smog,
Lalann,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America,
Stiv Bators,
Dave Gahan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wally Richardson,
Heaven 17,
Leonard Cohen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Supertramp,
Sam Rivers,
This Heat,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.