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 South Sudan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Fortunes,
Sixth Finger,
Animal Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
Vladislav Delay,
Glenn Branca,
Wings,
Angry Samoans,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slits,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wally Richardson,
The Gun Club,
Tubeway Army,
China Crisis,
Maleditus Sound,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Divine Comedy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Birthday Party,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Invisible,
H. Thieme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arthur Verocai,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Pop Group,
Agent Orange,
John Cale,
Sex Pistols,
Dawn Penn,
Roger Hodgson,
Prince Buster,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Sneak,
Nick Fraelich,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Black Pus,
Make Up,
The Mojo Men,
The Evens,
Jacques Brel,
The Motions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lyres,
The Detroit Cobras,
Byron Stingily,
Negative Approach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Order,
Black Moon,
Ossler,
The Fugs,
The Move,
Fear,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.