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 Poland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe 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 Sun City Girls to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Rites of Spring,
Hot Snakes,
Hoover,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy Collins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Radio Birdman,
the Swans,
Unwound,
Los Fastidios,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mantronix,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marvin Gaye,
the Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Niagra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
Cybotron,
Juan Atkins,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Busters,
The Slits,
Bauhaus,
The Seeds,
The Smoke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Moebius,
Swans,
Terry Callier,
Patti Smith,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gladiators,
Zero Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sällskapet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harry Pussy,
The Grass Roots,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
cv313,
Siglo XX,
A Certain Ratio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sound Behaviour,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultimate Spinach,
kango's stein massive,
Aural Exciters,
The Cure,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Organ,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Monochrome Set,
Ohio Players,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.