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 Papua New Guinea and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
The Saints,
Technova,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rosa Yemen,
Depeche Mode,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
World's Most,
Q65,
Sam Rivers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Young Marble Giants,
Rotary Connection,
Unwound,
Susan Cadogan,
Bauhaus,
Donny Hathaway,
LL Cool J,
The Human League,
In Retrospect,
The Blues Magoos,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Reed,
Suicide,
Agent Orange,
KRS-One,
B.T. Express,
Smog,
Crash Course in Science,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pagans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter & Gordon,
Cybotron,
New Order,
Yusef Lateef,
Barrington Levy,
Nik Kershaw,
The Divine Comedy,
Swans,
Scientists,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jacob Miller,
Vladislav Delay,
Lucky Dragons,
Harmonia,
Fad Gadget,
Mantronix,
Black Bananas,
EPMD,
Royal Trux,
Talk Talk,
Derrick Morgan,
Glenn Branca,
Arthur Verocai,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stereo Dub,
Terry Callier,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacques Brel,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.