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 El Salvador and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the punk 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Birthday Party,
Ronan,
Wasted Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Dolphy,
The Victims,
Grey Daturas,
Harry Pussy,
Maleditus Sound,
John Coltrane,
Bronski Beat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ituana,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agent Orange,
Erasure,
The Electric Prunes,
Isaac Hayes,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Pus,
Glenn Branca,
Carl Craig,
X-101,
Robert Wyatt,
Joy Division,
New Order,
Au Pairs,
Sound Behaviour,
The Slits,
Gong,
Ten City,
Black Flag,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bad Manners,
Y Pants,
Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
The Grass Roots,
The Gories,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Barracudas,
Soul II Soul,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
The Busters,
Monks,
One Last Wish,
Vainqueur,
Howard Jones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sight & Sound,
Ossler,
Duran Duran,
Hasil Adkins,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.