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 Bangladesh and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Pus to the dance 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Pulsallama,
the Bar-Kays,
Index,
Slick Rick,
Goldenarms,
Depeche Mode,
Donald Byrd,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Angry Samoans,
The Neon Judgement,
Negative Approach,
The Monochrome Set,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rakim,
Saccharine Trust,
Barry Ungar,
48th St. Collective,
Popol Vuh,
Jawbox,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fuzztones,
Fear,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alphaville,
The Skatalites,
Janne Schatter,
Joyce Sims,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Youth Brigade,
Sarah Menescal,
La Düsseldorf,
Guru Guru,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pierre Henry,
Marc Almond,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fela Kuti,
Harry Pussy,
John Holt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dawn Penn,
Funky Four + One,
Outsiders,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Moss Icon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tubeway Army,
Rites of Spring,
Steve Hackett,
The Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mandrill,
Alison Limerick,
Maleditus Sound,
Sandy B,
The Zeros,
The Blues Magoos,
Godley & Creme,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.