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 Tonga and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Drexciya to the techno 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Hashim,
Average White Band,
Public Enemy,
Spoonie Gee,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pole,
The American Breed,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Radio Birdman,
Ponytail,
Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
June Days,
The Fugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monolake,
Soul II Soul,
Blake Baxter,
Ossler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cecil Taylor,
Johnny Clarke,
The Doors,
Lower 48,
Underground Resistance,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Godley & Creme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Charles Mingus,
Sandy B,
Isaac Hayes,
Royal Trux,
B.T. Express,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Duran Duran,
Sällskapet,
Sparks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Neon Judgement,
Second Layer,
Rosa Yemen,
Youth Brigade,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
La Düsseldorf,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
Qualms,
Section 25,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül,
Prince Buster,
Joy Division,
The Shadows of Knight,
The J.B.'s,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.