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 Mauritius and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Bang On A Can to the disco 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Depeche Mode,
Niagra,
Guru Guru,
Japan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Michelle Simonal,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacques Brel,
Agent Orange,
Magma,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Underground Resistance,
Mantronix,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kurtis Blow,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Brand Nubian,
Sparks,
Vladislav Delay,
Khruangbin,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dirtbombs,
Con Funk Shun,
KRS-One,
Eric Copeland,
Alton Ellis,
Mad Mike,
Magazine,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
MDC,
Sun Ra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang Green,
Bobby Hutcherson,
L. Decosne,
Scratch Acid,
Scrapy,
Outsiders,
Bootsy Collins,
Urselle,
Ornette Coleman,
Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bad Manners,
Zero Boys,
Lower 48,
Dennis Brown,
The Kinks,
Ronnie Foster,
Spandau Ballet,
Yellowson,
Bush Tetras,
Au Pairs,
Tears for Fears,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
The Mojo Men,
Q and Not U,
Todd Terry,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.