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 Colombia and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Juan Atkins to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Pierre Henry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eden Ahbez,
John Foxx,
Connie Case,
Quando Quango,
Young Marble Giants,
Skarface,
Jandek,
Interpol,
Kurtis Blow,
Spandau Ballet,
The Angels of Light,
Pere Ubu,
Minnie Riperton,
Blossom Toes,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Intrusion,
Loose Ends,
Magma,
Erasure,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blancmange,
Danielle Patucci,
Skriet,
Davy DMX,
Sight & Sound,
Yaz,
Chris Corsano,
Tubeway Army,
Sugar Minott,
The Beau Brummels,
Hardrive,
Kevin Saunderson,
Colin Newman,
John Coltrane,
Todd Terry,
The Pop Group,
Donald Byrd,
Lower 48,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lalann,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DNA,
Shuggie Otis,
Severed Heads,
Sarah Menescal,
The Litter,
Blake Baxter,
Adolescents,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jerry's Kids,
Lindisfarne,
cv313,
Unwound,
Ken Boothe,
T.S.O.L.,
Morten Harket,
Jacques Brel,
Fatback Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
ABBA,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.