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 Estonia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
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 organ 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 The United States of America to the funk 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Eurythmics,
the Germs,
China Crisis,
Cheater Slicks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Average White Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Arab on Radar,
Charles Mingus,
The Offenders,
Tim Buckley,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Agitation Free,
Radiohead,
Shuggie Otis,
Aswad,
Eden Ahbez,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Angry Samoans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brothers Johnson,
The Real Kids,
U.S. Maple,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moody Blues,
Drive Like Jehu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
MDC,
the Normal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jandek,
Bill Wells,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Golliwogs,
Brick,
Letta Mbulu,
The Velvet Underground,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxy Music,
Make Up,
Gerry Rafferty,
Schoolly D,
Hardrive,
Procol Harum,
Ralphi Rosario,
Anakelly,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
Ronan,
Dark Day,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unwound,
The Angels of Light,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.