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 San Marino and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Steve Hackett to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
Eddi Front,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Buckinghams,
Banda Bassotti,
June of 44,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gichy Dan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fugazi,
This Heat,
Donald Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Jacob Miller,
B.T. Express,
Subhumans,
Index,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Metal Thangz,
Crime,
Howard Jones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
Fela Kuti,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pulsallama,
The Durutti Column,
John Foxx,
Monks,
The Sonics,
the Association,
The Golliwogs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
Tears for Fears,
The Stooges,
Sparks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pagans,
Man Parrish,
The Kinks,
Joey Negro,
cv313,
the Sonics,
Niagra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Prince Buster,
John Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Altered Images,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thompson Twins,
Erasure,
The Names,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.