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 Netherlands and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 A Certain Ratio to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays 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?
Excepter,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Wyatt,
Roxette,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gories,
Robert Görl,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
Eddi Front,
Terry Callier,
Country Teasers,
Fad Gadget,
Swans,
Goldenarms,
Morten Harket,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alton Ellis,
Chris & Cosey,
Bronski Beat,
Gichy Dan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
A Certain Ratio,
Babytalk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soul II Soul,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cowsills,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
Stockholm Monsters,
E-Dancer,
John Lydon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Saccharine Trust,
John Foxx,
Neil Young,
Deepchord,
Ornette Coleman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mad Mike,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Rundgren,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fluxion,
Stiv Bators,
Juan Atkins,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Faust,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wolf Eyes,
John Coltrane,
The New Christs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cybotron,
Ohio Players,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fugazi,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.