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 Honduras and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 La Düsseldorf to the rap 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Crime,
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
A Certain Ratio,
Marc Almond,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pulsallama,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The New Christs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brass Construction,
Wasted Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Cymande,
10cc,
In Retrospect,
Black Sheep,
Don Cherry,
The Angels of Light,
Skarface,
Scrapy,
John Coltrane,
Stereo Dub,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Groovy Waters,
Symarip,
Roxette,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Donald Byrd,
kango's stein massive,
Toni Rubio,
The Evens,
Grey Daturas,
Laurel Aitken,
Wally Richardson,
John Lydon,
Vladislav Delay,
Joensuu 1685,
Vainqueur,
Todd Rundgren,
Tim Buckley,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lyres,
The Neon Judgement,
Glenn Branca,
Unrelated Segments,
Radio Birdman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
CMW,
Marmalade,
Mark Hollis,
The Names,
Eve St. Jones,
June of 44,
Gang of Four,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.