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 Dominican Republic and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum 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 Fugazi 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Public Enemy,
Country Teasers,
The Music Machine,
Todd Rundgren,
Terry Callier,
Reuben Wilson,
Nirvana,
Absolute Body Control,
Pole,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
Kas Product,
Max Romeo,
Don Cherry,
Sex Pistols,
Sarah Menescal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Little Man,
Delta 5,
FM Einheit,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mad Mike,
The Smoke,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric Copeland,
Byron Stingily,
Tim Buckley,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
Japan,
New York Dolls,
Arthur Verocai,
Howard Jones,
Easy Going,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Talk Talk,
Lebanon Hanover,
Carl Craig,
Darondo,
Nils Olav,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Byrd,
PIL,
Anthony Braxton,
Pylon,
Masters at Work,
Jerry's Kids,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Soft Cell,
Cluster,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cecil Taylor,
Inner City,
Blossom Toes,
Panda Bear,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.