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 Germany and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sugar Minott to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Mad Mike,
Second Layer,
Eric Dolphy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Godley & Creme,
Reuben Wilson,
Donald Byrd,
Hoover,
The Grass Roots,
The Walker Brothers,
Lalann,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
The Litter,
The Young Rascals,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mr. Review,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rotary Connection,
Tears for Fears,
Pere Ubu,
Porter Ricks,
The J.B.'s,
Wasted Youth,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monochrome Set,
Harry Pussy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Absolute Body Control,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pussy Galore,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Swans,
Heaven 17,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dead C,
John Cale,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kenny Larkin,
Kas Product,
Animal Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
Jacques Brel,
Laurel Aitken,
Supertramp,
Ken Boothe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Make Up,
June Days,
Icehouse,
The Leaves,
Amon Düül II,
Pylon,
The Velvet Underground,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fugazi,
Half Japanese,
The Black Dice,
Hasil Adkins,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.