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 Qatar and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 E-Dancer to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Leaves,
Sandy B,
The Moleskins,
Ludus,
Nico,
The Residents,
Marc Almond,
Smog,
Marine Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Birthday Party,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fugs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Althea and Donna,
Leonard Cohen,
Reuben Wilson,
Darondo,
Nik Kershaw,
Man Parrish,
The Zeros,
Deepchord,
Schoolly D,
Bush Tetras,
Spoonie Gee,
Amazonics,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronnie Foster,
Jandek,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
CMW,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The J.B.'s,
Flash Fearless,
Donald Byrd,
New Order,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Technova,
Angry Samoans,
Minny Pops,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bronski Beat,
Mad Mike,
The Stooges,
Model 500,
The Fortunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crash Course in Science,
Popol Vuh,
Nils Olav,
Audionom,
Minutemen,
Gang Starr,
Glenn Branca,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Cale,
The Red Krayola,
Masters at Work,
Gang of Four,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.