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 Pakistan and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Albert Ayler to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Magazine,
Brass Construction,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-101,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wings,
Von Mondo,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Pus,
Q65,
Intrusion,
Ronnie Foster,
The Black Dice,
Ornette Coleman,
Brothers Johnson,
Amon Düül,
The Divine Comedy,
ABC,
The Toasters,
Cameo,
a-ha,
Joensuu 1685,
Warsaw,
the Normal,
The Trojans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grauzone,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
China Crisis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sparks,
Skarface,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Near,
Gerry Rafferty,
Malaria!,
Ultra Naté,
PIL,
Fela Kuti,
The Sonics,
The Litter,
Nirvana,
Franke,
Qualms,
Pierre Henry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Index,
The Misunderstood,
Khruangbin,
Quando Quango,
Duran Duran,
Niagra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Görl,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.