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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the techno 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Starr,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Goldenarms,
Angry Samoans,
Aswad,
Deadbeat,
Monks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Technova,
Cecil Taylor,
PIL,
Gang of Four,
E-Dancer,
Depeche Mode,
Moebius,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nation of Ulysses,
The American Breed,
Harmonia,
Babytalk,
Visage,
The Star Department,
Trumans Water,
Drive Like Jehu,
Althea and Donna,
the Germs,
The Barracudas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed,
Cheater Slicks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scratch Acid,
Quando Quango,
Black Moon,
Judy Mowatt,
Rekid,
Gang Gang Dance,
Moss Icon,
D'Angelo,
Graham Central Station,
Pantaleimon,
Barbara Tucker,
Camberwell Now,
New Order,
Bang On A Can,
Patti Smith,
The Music Machine,
The Evens,
The Slackers,
The Beau Brummels,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Saccharine Trust,
Half Japanese,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Sonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.