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 Mauritius and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Holt to the disco 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Black Moon,
Swans,
Nico,
Los Fastidios,
ABC,
Franke,
Howard Jones,
The Wake,
Quadrant,
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jacques Brel,
Pulsallama,
DNA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tubeway Army,
Model 500,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sällskapet,
the Swans,
Derrick Morgan,
Dennis Brown,
Dark Day,
Black Bananas,
The Young Rascals,
The Knickerbockers,
Pagans,
One Last Wish,
Harmonia,
The Mummies,
The Selecter,
LL Cool J,
Skarface,
Scion,
Rod Modell,
Fear,
Susan Cadogan,
Spoonie Gee,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deakin,
Underground Resistance,
The Standells,
Outsiders,
Television Personalities,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Aural Exciters,
Neu!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Accadde A,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Man Parrish,
Eric Copeland,
Hoover,
Lungfish,
Letta Mbulu,
Darondo,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.