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 Yemen and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Associates to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Supertramp,
The Fugs,
The Dead C,
Gang Green,
The Red Krayola,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lalann,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Misunderstood,
JFA,
Lou Christie,
John Cale,
Average White Band,
Joey Negro,
Interpol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tomorrow,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bauhaus,
The American Breed,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Doors,
Nils Olav,
E-Dancer,
The Birthday Party,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dead Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gories,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New Order,
Eurythmics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Womack,
Harmonia,
The Standells,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
AZ,
Easy Going,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siglo XX,
The Cowsills,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacob Miller,
The Blues Magoos,
T. Rex,
The Young Rascals,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barrington Levy,
Suburban Knight,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deakin,
Blancmange,
Pole,
Organ,
Talk Talk,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.