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 Armenia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
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 synthesizer 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 Avey Tare to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
the Swans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Supertramp,
Bootsy Collins,
Maleditus Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Aaron Thompson,
Grauzone,
Bronski Beat,
Iggy Pop,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantaleimon,
The Trojans,
Pylon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fortunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Alison Limerick,
The Monks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Zero Boys,
Depeche Mode,
The Mojo Men,
John Holt,
Eden Ahbez,
Mr. Review,
JFA,
Hardrive,
Scion,
Sandy B,
The Count Five,
The Happenings,
Bauhaus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minnie Riperton,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Underground Resistance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Monks,
The Gun Club,
Flash Fearless,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grey Daturas,
Bush Tetras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gong,
Skarface,
Babytalk,
The Golliwogs,
The Durutti Column,
Reagan Youth,
Jawbox,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Invisible,
The Electric Prunes,
The Misunderstood,
Arab on Radar,
The Victims,
The Seeds,
Funky Four + One,
The Slits,
Matthew Bourne,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.