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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Reagan Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
Wasted Youth,
Pylon,
David Axelrod,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fire Engines,
Symarip,
OOIOO,
Kenny Larkin,
Kurtis Blow,
Colin Newman,
Yellowson,
Qualms,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Chrome,
Max Romeo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Moon,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sam Rivers,
Freddie Wadling,
Eddi Front,
MDC,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Moleskins,
Suicide,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Intrusion,
Lungfish,
Danielle Patucci,
Babytalk,
Minny Pops,
Joey Negro,
The Gun Club,
Skaos,
Slick Rick,
Ossler,
Eric Dolphy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Animal Collective,
Maurizio,
Groovy Waters,
Los Fastidios,
The Names,
Newcleus,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
E-Dancer,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hot Snakes,
Ronnie Foster,
Lower 48,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.