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 Thailand and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Hashim to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mars,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Soft Cell,
These Immortal Souls,
Excepter,
The Fugs,
Ponytail,
Second Layer,
Country Teasers,
John Cale,
D'Angelo,
June Days,
The Motions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fela Kuti,
Black Moon,
Mo-Dettes,
PIL,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Wyatt,
Echospace,
The Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Livin' Joy,
The Fall,
Carl Craig,
Steve Hackett,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Von Mondo,
ABC,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Swell Maps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
kango's stein massive,
Basic Channel,
The Move,
Don Cherry,
Royal Trux,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
Crime,
Rotary Connection,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Lydon,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Prunes,
LL Cool J,
a-ha,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Malaria!,
Maurizio,
X-102,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mr. Review,
Quadrant,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hardrive,
The Misunderstood,
Sam Rivers,
Lower 48,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.