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 Switzerland and from Halifax.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Alice Coltrane to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Saints,
Saccharine Trust,
Ludus,
The Tremeloes,
Rotary Connection,
The Toasters,
Jacques Brel,
Theoretical Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABC,
Scott Walker,
Intrusion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harry Pussy,
Pagans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alice Coltrane,
Ice-T,
Goldenarms,
Make Up,
The Leaves,
Gong,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Max Romeo,
Mandrill,
Simply Red,
Amon Düül,
Infiniti,
Massinfluence,
Q and Not U,
Icehouse,
Gichy Dan,
Darondo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bob Dylan,
The Pop Group,
John Holt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Index,
The Fortunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Babytalk,
David McCallum,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eve St. Jones,
Moss Icon,
Public Image Ltd.,
D'Angelo,
The Moody Blues,
Matthew Bourne,
Neil Young,
Angry Samoans,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.