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 Tajikistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro 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 DNA to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Nation of Ulysses,
Don Cherry,
Alice Coltrane,
Spoonie Gee,
Bluetip,
Pulsallama,
Smog,
China Crisis,
Gang Green,
Tears for Fears,
Skaos,
Masters at Work,
John Coltrane,
Excepter,
Chris Corsano,
Archie Shepp,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suicide,
Procol Harum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hoover,
The Names,
A Certain Ratio,
The Grass Roots,
Black Bananas,
Deadbeat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sam Rivers,
The Moleskins,
Drexciya,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Das Ding,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
Malaria!,
The Neon Judgement,
The Last Poets,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeru the Damaja,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crime,
Shoche,
Derrick Morgan,
Joey Negro,
Michelle Simonal,
La Düsseldorf,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fear,
The Moody Blues,
Lindisfarne,
X-102,
Negative Approach,
Minnie Riperton,
Prince Buster,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Motions,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.