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 East Timor and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sex Pistols to the grime 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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Starr,
Pantytec,
Brick,
Neu!,
Hasil Adkins,
Cal Tjader,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Dolphy,
Arab on Radar,
EPMD,
Bang On A Can,
Groovy Waters,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pagans,
John Cale,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Animal Collective,
Subhumans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos,
Ossler,
Blossom Toes,
Gong,
The Fugs,
Bush Tetras,
Stereo Dub,
Magma,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rites of Spring,
Stiv Bators,
Sister Nancy,
Crash Course in Science,
Quadrant,
The Fortunes,
Henry Cow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crooked Eye,
Jacob Miller,
Tubeway Army,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeff Lynne,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
Eden Ahbez,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Prince Buster,
Inner City,
Flamin' Groovies,
Juan Atkins,
Black Bananas,
Royal Trux,
Aural Exciters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kayak,
48th St. Collective,
LL Cool J,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.