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 Cape Verde and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord 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 Yazoo to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lakeside,
Y Pants,
Tomorrow,
Angry Samoans,
The Moody Blues,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
Skriet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
kango's stein massive,
Black Moon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Max Romeo,
The Names,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nirvana,
Peter and Kerry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Warsaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Faust,
Zapp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Buckinghams,
Yellowson,
Soul II Soul,
Ultravox,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Standells,
Hashim,
R.M.O.,
Rekid,
Vladislav Delay,
Jawbox,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dawn Penn,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Echospace,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joensuu 1685,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Durutti Column,
T.S.O.L.,
E-Dancer,
Mantronix,
Cecil Taylor,
The Real Kids,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.