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 Namibia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Gang Starr,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Cal Tjader,
The Misunderstood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Howard Jones,
Junior Murvin,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Neil Young,
Thompson Twins,
Agent Orange,
Talk Talk,
Blancmange,
Dual Sessions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David McCallum,
Yusef Lateef,
Pere Ubu,
Leonard Cohen,
Aaron Thompson,
Essential Logic,
In Retrospect,
CMW,
Lebanon Hanover,
Carl Craig,
Hoover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slave,
Rhythm & Sound,
Suicide,
John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
World's Most,
Can,
H. Thieme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Stereo Dub,
Organ,
Siglo XX,
Anthony Braxton,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bang On A Can,
Intrusion,
Easy Going,
Ultra Naté,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soul II Soul,
Man Eating Sloth,
New Age Steppers,
The Slackers,
Maurizio,
Smog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monks,
Wally Richardson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aswad,
Glenn Branca,
Reagan Youth,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.