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 Serbia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Icehouse to the dance 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Crispian St. Peters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
cv313,
Suburban Knight,
John Coltrane,
Jacob Miller,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The J.B.'s,
Cabaret Voltaire,
kango's stein massive,
Unrelated Segments,
Ludus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott Heron,
The New Christs,
Fugazi,
Barry Ungar,
EPMD,
Iggy Pop,
Theoretical Girls,
The Count Five,
Dual Sessions,
One Last Wish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cecil Taylor,
Zapp,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Peter and Kerry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bluetip,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rosa Yemen,
Marmalade,
The Black Dice,
Cheater Slicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Germs,
The Gories,
Amon Düül II,
Chrome,
DNA,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
The Music Machine,
CMW,
Marvin Gaye,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Echospace,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.