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 Lesotho and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 Pantaleimon to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Janne Schatter,
Moebius,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pere Ubu,
The Fire Engines,
Swans,
Agitation Free,
Blancmange,
the Sonics,
Alton Ellis,
Amazonics,
Sam Rivers,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chris Corsano,
Outsiders,
Roger Hodgson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dennis Brown,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Green,
Ohio Players,
Sonny Sharrock,
Magma,
Ronnie Foster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Khruangbin,
Cluster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Henry Cow,
Steve Hackett,
Anthony Braxton,
Q65,
Tom Boy,
Trumans Water,
UT,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Suburban Knight,
Eli Mardock,
Sight & Sound,
Fear,
The Moleskins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bill Near,
Lungfish,
Index,
The Last Poets,
Suicide,
Bootsy Collins,
Simply Red,
Japan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Monolake,
Desert Stars,
Bill Wells,
Eve St. Jones,
X-Ray Spex,
Rotary Connection,
The Techniques,
Michelle Simonal,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.