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 Malaysia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane 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 organ 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 Mo-Dettes to the punk 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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Young Marble Giants,
Cal Tjader,
Letta Mbulu,
Chris Corsano,
Visage,
the Bar-Kays,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brass Construction,
The Saints,
Fat Boys,
Gong,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gichy Dan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Faraquet,
Au Pairs,
The American Breed,
The Fortunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fuzztones,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Görl,
New Order,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
D'Angelo,
Robert Wyatt,
Motorama,
Brick,
Soulsonic Force,
Grauzone,
The Monks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hashim,
Joy Division,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dark Day,
Warsaw,
Ultravox,
Minutemen,
Tubeway Army,
Michelle Simonal,
Vladislav Delay,
Moebius,
Al Stewart,
Q and Not U,
Boredoms,
DJ Sneak,
The Leaves,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fall,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wire,
Black Pus,
Nils Olav,
Black Flag,
John Holt,
Guru Guru,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.