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 Peru and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
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 arpeggiator 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 Sex Pistols to the grunge 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Flash Fearless,
Albert Ayler,
Scratch Acid,
Soulsonic Force,
Scott Walker,
Leonard Cohen,
Gregory Isaacs,
Steve Hackett,
Grauzone,
Whodini,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brothers Johnson,
Procol Harum,
Brand Nubian,
The Slits,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sound Behaviour,
Patti Smith,
Gang Gang Dance,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Halsall,
Negative Approach,
Glenn Branca,
Jawbox,
Ultra Naté,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Doors,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spoonie Gee,
B.T. Express,
Yellowson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Monks,
Electric Prunes,
John Foxx,
The Dirtbombs,
Skaos,
These Immortal Souls,
the Soft Cell,
Urselle,
K-Klass,
Todd Terry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
cv313,
Motorama,
Nick Fraelich,
AZ,
Jandek,
Animal Collective,
Roxette,
Khruangbin,
Pere Ubu,
Sixth Finger,
Con Funk Shun,
Pulsallama,
Gang of Four,
Amon Düül,
Janne Schatter,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.