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 Ireland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
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 clarinet 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 Slave to the rap 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scion,
Hot Snakes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Leaves,
Wolf Eyes,
Jandek,
Soft Cell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q and Not U,
T. Rex,
Albert Ayler,
Frankie Knuckles,
PIL,
Whodini,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Anakelly,
the Fania All-Stars,
Angry Samoans,
The Black Dice,
The Litter,
Black Flag,
Roxette,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
Sight & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ornette Coleman,
Crooked Eye,
Joensuu 1685,
Public Image Ltd.,
Donald Byrd,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Newcleus,
Graham Central Station,
Mr. Review,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Agitation Free,
Monolake,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Neon Judgement,
Amazonics,
Yellowson,
Peter and Kerry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gun Club,
Arcadia,
Animal Collective,
Quantec,
Desert Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eddi Front,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.