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 Chad and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Make Up to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Trumans Water,
Animal Collective,
Rod Modell,
Sex Pistols,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joey Negro,
Talk Talk,
The Fortunes,
Roxy Music,
Cluster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smoke,
Siglo XX,
World's Most,
Con Funk Shun,
The Tremeloes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Boogie Down Productions,
Q65,
Fat Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Divine Comedy,
Loose Ends,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Christie,
Lakeside,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stiv Bators,
Adolescents,
The Young Rascals,
Drive Like Jehu,
Spandau Ballet,
Tomorrow,
Metal Thangz,
Connie Case,
Popol Vuh,
Yazoo,
Fela Kuti,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
Godley & Creme,
Prince Buster,
The Raincoats,
Buzzcocks,
Radiohead,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sister Nancy,
The Victims,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
cv313,
Nirvana,
Bauhaus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hot Snakes,
Lalo Schifrin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.