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 El Salvador and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Techniques to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
X-Ray Spex,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
FM Einheit,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fat Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Lydon,
Infiniti,
Parry Music,
Gichy Dan,
The Martian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nas,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Green,
Symarip,
Black Bananas,
Sällskapet,
Lou Christie,
Black Flag,
The Neon Judgement,
Anthony Braxton,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Japan,
The Move,
Motorama,
Girls At Our Best!,
Saccharine Trust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Pop Group,
Hot Snakes,
Swans,
Second Layer,
Mad Mike,
Johnny Clarke,
The Velvet Underground,
Von Mondo,
Delta 5,
Ronan,
Albert Ayler,
The Angels of Light,
Gerry Rafferty,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Stooges,
Mantronix,
K-Klass,
Wally Richardson,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fuzztones,
Sight & Sound,
The Techniques,
Flipper,
Janne Schatter,
Henry Cow,
Electric Prunes,
The Tremeloes,
Icehouse,
Guru Guru,
Neil Young,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.