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 Argentina and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dark Day to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Hoover,
Lungfish,
Lou Reed,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tom Boy,
Black Pus,
Pole,
Fort Wilson Riot,
R.M.O.,
Eurythmics,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fuzztones,
The Black Dice,
The Pop Group,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Golliwogs,
Flipper,
Pylon,
Cal Tjader,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yaz,
The Leaves,
Quantec,
Zero Boys,
Circle Jerks,
The Fall,
Hardrive,
Agent Orange,
Wally Richardson,
Gang Starr,
Thompson Twins,
Gabor Szabo,
The Real Kids,
Arcadia,
The Electric Prunes,
Marvin Gaye,
Lakeside,
The Residents,
U.S. Maple,
Popol Vuh,
Marine Girls,
New York Dolls,
Radiohead,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
X-102,
Letta Mbulu,
Hot Snakes,
Judy Mowatt,
The Standells,
Khruangbin,
ABC,
Ohio Players,
New Age Steppers,
Sällskapet,
Joy Division,
Maurizio,
Black Bananas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.