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 Yemen and from New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Sound Behaviour to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Glenn Branca,
John Lydon,
John Cale,
The Walker Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Unwound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neil Young,
Steve Hackett,
Jandek,
Smog,
Jeff Mills,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gories,
Urselle,
Joey Negro,
Bad Manners,
Black Moon,
Rhythm & Sound,
David Axelrod,
Liliput,
Infiniti,
Eric Dolphy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Flipper,
Severed Heads,
Marine Girls,
Davy DMX,
Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wire,
Rapeman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Amon Düül,
Robert Hood,
David Bowie,
AZ,
Spoonie Gee,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Matthew Halsall,
Stereo Dub,
Bill Wells,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Con Funk Shun,
Scan 7,
Procol Harum,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ronnie Foster,
Main Source,
Brick,
The Cowsills,
Marc Almond,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
China Crisis,
Josef K,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.