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 Saudi Arabia and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Flesh Eaters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse 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?
the Bar-Kays,
Blossom Toes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Half Japanese,
World's Most,
Shoche,
Pole,
Scrapy,
Livin' Joy,
Sarah Menescal,
Cecil Taylor,
The Real Kids,
John Lydon,
Wally Richardson,
Nico,
Dead Boys,
Sällskapet,
Letta Mbulu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rekid,
Soul II Soul,
The Golliwogs,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Dolphy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gong,
Hoover,
Black Pus,
CMW,
The Cure,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Interpol,
Connie Case,
Minny Pops,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thompson Twins,
Marmalade,
Boredoms,
Dual Sessions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Modern Lovers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Near,
OOIOO,
Albert Ayler,
Godley & Creme,
Negative Approach,
Los Fastidios,
Ultravox,
Henry Cow,
Sex Pistols,
La Düsseldorf,
Motorama,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wasted Youth,
DJ Style,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.