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 Estonia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba 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 Chris & Cosey to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
LL Cool J,
Section 25,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Unrelated Segments,
James White and The Blacks,
These Immortal Souls,
Clear Light,
Half Japanese,
Johnny Clarke,
The Doors,
The Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Pet Shop Boys,
Slave,
Sister Nancy,
Maurizio,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
Interpol,
Bobby Byrd,
Lyres,
Marc Almond,
The Neon Judgement,
Arab on Radar,
Youth Brigade,
Can,
Newcleus,
Bill Near,
48th St. Collective,
Simply Red,
Robert Hood,
Peter & Gordon,
Dave Gahan,
ABC,
Echospace,
The New Christs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
U.S. Maple,
Matthew Halsall,
Organ,
Cluster,
Average White Band,
The Red Krayola,
Tears for Fears,
Thompson Twins,
Matthew Bourne,
A Certain Ratio,
Soulsonic Force,
Todd Rundgren,
Pussy Galore,
Kenny Larkin,
Boz Scaggs,
Jandek,
Patti Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Faust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Au Pairs,
Cybotron,
Mandrill,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.