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 Kiribati and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nick Fraelich,
Althea and Donna,
Moby Grape,
Amazonics,
Arcadia,
Reagan Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slick Rick,
The Litter,
The Red Krayola,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Certain Ratio,
Bang On A Can,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Glenn Branca,
Jimmy McGriff,
Howard Jones,
Slave,
the Human League,
The Remains,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cameo,
Pagans,
Chris & Cosey,
the Soft Cell,
Skarface,
Scientists,
The Alarm Clocks,
E-Dancer,
Nik Kershaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang of Four,
Aswad,
New Age Steppers,
DJ Sneak,
Tomorrow,
Oblivians,
Sound Behaviour,
Model 500,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Goldenarms,
Eurythmics,
Tommy Roe,
Crash Course in Science,
the Normal,
Yusef Lateef,
Subhumans,
The Raincoats,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Index,
LL Cool J,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radio Birdman,
Severed Heads,
Kayak,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.