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 Korea South and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Juan Atkins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Stockholm Monsters,
Reagan Youth,
Bauhaus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
John Holt,
the Germs,
D'Angelo,
Hashim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
A Certain Ratio,
Yaz,
Dorothy Ashby,
R.M.O.,
James White and The Blacks,
Royal Trux,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Skatalites,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Five Americans,
Animal Collective,
The Cure,
Public Image Ltd.,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Freddie Wadling,
Minor Threat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Khruangbin,
Fat Boys,
Groovy Waters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kayak,
These Immortal Souls,
The Martian,
Crash Course in Science,
Bill Wells,
Skarface,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Techniques,
Inner City,
The United States of America,
Kenny Larkin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Don Cherry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dark Day,
Eurythmics,
Funkadelic,
Mandrill,
Au Pairs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blackbyrds,
The Index,
The Smoke,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.