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 Guatemala and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Pantaleimon to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Roxy Music,
ABBA,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Christie,
Blossom Toes,
Nirvana,
Lakeside,
Alison Limerick,
Tomorrow,
Index,
Minny Pops,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Birthday Party,
the Sonics,
The Durutti Column,
Ronan,
Crime,
Outsiders,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Music Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Ken Boothe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Gladiators,
The Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Oblivians,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Andrew Hill,
Kerri Chandler,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Amon Düül II,
Rotary Connection,
Laurel Aitken,
John Foxx,
Wolf Eyes,
Ludus,
X-Ray Spex,
the Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
The Buckinghams,
Pylon,
H. Thieme,
Monolake,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sandy B,
Sugar Minott,
Rakim,
Inner City,
Mandrill,
Mark Hollis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
Interpol,
John Lydon,
Liliput,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.