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 Equatorial Guinea and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc 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?
Minutemen,
Colin Newman,
Funkadelic,
Alison Limerick,
The Slits,
Amon Düül II,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lalann,
Carl Craig,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Panda Bear,
Minor Threat,
Bush Tetras,
Infiniti,
Peter and Kerry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agent Orange,
Bootsy Collins,
The Skatalites,
Pantaleimon,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Moss Icon,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Hill,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Henry Cow,
Peter & Gordon,
Rekid,
The Gladiators,
The Gun Club,
Suicide,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Slits,
Kerrie Biddell,
Das Ding,
JFA,
Chris & Cosey,
Moby Grape,
Banda Bassotti,
R.M.O.,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fuzztones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dark Day,
Japan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mission of Burma,
Lyres,
Massinfluence,
Yazoo,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxette,
The Fall,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Byrd,
Boz Scaggs,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.