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 Djibouti and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Frankie Knuckles to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
E-Dancer,
Girls At Our Best!,
Easy Going,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joy Division,
New York Dolls,
Youth Brigade,
The Litter,
Tres Demented,
Bad Manners,
Mad Mike,
Judy Mowatt,
Model 500,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare,
Eli Mardock,
Eve St. Jones,
Joyce Sims,
Jimmy McGriff,
Von Mondo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Spoonie Gee,
D'Angelo,
Don Cherry,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Danielle Patucci,
Wasted Youth,
The Slits,
Yusef Lateef,
Massinfluence,
Schoolly D,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vainqueur,
Tom Boy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alice Coltrane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sparks,
Q65,
Negative Approach,
Dark Day,
Theoretical Girls,
Morten Harket,
The Monochrome Set,
Glenn Branca,
Roxy Music,
The Saints,
Sixth Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
Babytalk,
Matthew Halsall,
The Durutti Column,
Darondo,
The Dead C,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Holt,
Vladislav Delay,
The New Christs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.