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 Palau and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Idris Muhammad to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Iggy Pop,
Ohio Players,
Harry Pussy,
Moebius,
Masters at Work,
KRS-One,
Funkadelic,
Marcia Griffiths,
Television,
LL Cool J,
Pere Ubu,
Lightning Bolt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mission of Burma,
Swans,
Sparks,
Scan 7,
Desert Stars,
Main Source,
Rhythm & Sound,
Interpol,
Aaron Thompson,
Toni Rubio,
Anakelly,
Warren Ellis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Association,
Dave Gahan,
David Bowie,
Maleditus Sound,
Nico,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Soft Cell,
Magazine,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
Roxy Music,
Graham Central Station,
Flash Fearless,
The Raincoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pulsallama,
H. Thieme,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Walker Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
Black Pus,
Con Funk Shun,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hoover,
The Red Krayola,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Sneak,
Little Man,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.