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 Kuwait and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Nation of Ulysses to the grime 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Godley & Creme,
Sexual Harrassment,
Henry Cow,
The Grass Roots,
The Raincoats,
the Slits,
Motorama,
Boz Scaggs,
Icehouse,
Alice Coltrane,
Alton Ellis,
Aural Exciters,
Nas,
Popol Vuh,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cluster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ronan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blancmange,
The Star Department,
Surgeon,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Fraelich,
Young Marble Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Desert Stars,
Reagan Youth,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Archie Shepp,
David Bowie,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ossler,
Joyce Sims,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sex Pistols,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Letta Mbulu,
Erykah Badu,
Skriet,
Matthew Halsall,
The Modern Lovers,
Loose Ends,
Pantaleimon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Buzzcocks,
Au Pairs,
The Dead C,
The Martian,
Wire,
The Zeros,
The Dirtbombs,
The American Breed,
Heaven 17,
Swans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crime,
Fluxion,
Iggy Pop,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.